Entangled
by Fortris X
Summary: Coming into her seventh year at Hogwarts, Hermione expected the harsh realities of war to settle into the world around her. She could not, however, have expected to be bound to a man whom she resented for the better years of her life. With a letter from the Ministry and the demands of a controlling madman, Hermione Granger is set to marry the dark and dangerous Severus Snape.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, this is my first story on here! I've written before, but never posted. This story begins in the Trio's seventh year at Hogwarts, in September. It is not HBP or DH compliant and Voldemort is not dead. This is a marriage law story. Please leave a review if you enjoy. Thank you!**

* * *

"The concept of Potions is one not to be taken lightly," Professor Severus Snape announced lowly to his NEWTs Potion class as he strolled around the room with his hands clasped tightly behind his rigid back. "In fact, anyone in this room who is only taking this class for the credits and not for the art, do both of us a favor and leave now. There is no room for carelessness and indelicacy in this course." He paused at the front of the room and flashed his eyes towards his students. He caught eyes with the 'famed' Golden Trio and narrowed his glare.

Hermione Granger locked eyes with the professor and held the connection until he looked away. Her brows furrowed together. Had he been implying that she was only taking Potions to fill her schedule? Has he not had her in his class for several years now? She brushed the assumption away. As long as she knew she was there for real, there for passion, then that was all that matter. Next to her, Harry and Ron sat with their chins in their hands and their feet tapping annoyingly on the floor. It was obvious to anyone who looked at them that the boys were there for different reasons. She rolled her eyes at them.

"Today we will be brewing a simple enough calming serum. Instructions," Snape said haughtily, "are on the board." He slapped his wand to the blackboard and suddenly a slew of directions and ingredients appeared upon it in spiny penmanship. Hermione looked over at the boys with an eager expression.

"Well?" she said, elbowing Ron in the ribs lightly to gain his drifting attention. "Aren't you going to get the ingredients?" She looked behind her as the rest of her classmates walked towards the storage room before looking back to Harry and Ron. "That is unless the two of you want to do the setting up," she offered as she raised an eyebrow, knowing their answer before they responded.

The boys shook their heads and sighed. Finally, Ron rose from his stool and ventured towards the backroom. Hermione stood up and placed two old pewter cauldrons on the table with a respectful distance between them. She began placing protective charms on each one, making sure to place heavier ones of the left cauldron. "I swear, Hermione, this class just gets duller and duller as the years goes by," Harry said as he flipped the page in his book. "I don't know how much longer I can stand it and still be considered sane."

Hermione sighed heavily and dropped her wand to the work bench. With her hands on her hips, she turned to Harry with a tired and bothered frown etched upon her face. "Then why are you still here, Harry? Just drop out! It's not required for you or Ron to be here, and frankly I've had enough of your moping," she spoke in quick, cutting words. She was really sick of the boy's attitude toward their education, especially when it was not mandatory for them to be there.

Harry sat up straighter and looked at Hermione peculiarly. "Actually, Hermione, it _is_ required, unfortunately, if I want to become and Auror. Which I do, in case you've somehow forgotten."

Hermione was about to retort when Ron returned to the table with his arms full of jars and paper sacks. "Take it, quick, before I break something again," he begged, shoving some of the contents into Hermione's arms. "Is that all of it, or am I missing something?"

Placing the jars upon the table before her, Hermione examined the labels on each jar intently. Everything seemed to be in order, so she turned to Ron with a smile. "Nope. Everything is all good here." She looked over to Harry. "Alright. So, this set of ingredients calls for two batches. Seeing as you two need the practice and I don't, I'll make one and you two can work together to make the other, alright?"

Her friends groaned but nodded, knowing that Hermione would most likely wind up helping them anyway, if not doing all the work. Sadly for them, and for Hermione, this would not turn out the be case this time.

* * *

As the class period progressed, as did Hermione's brew with flying colors. Her calming serum was turning a pale, olive green as she rounded the last step of the process. Now she only needed to let it sit for ten minutes, intact, before the brewing was complete. As she was placing a stasis charm on her potion, she noticed something odd out of the corner of her eye.

Before she was able to do anything about it, the cauldron next to her burst, sending her and her friends flying to the hard stone floor. Her elbows smashed painfully on the ground as she made her impact and she groaned in pain. She heaved a wheezing cough and looked around the room. Everyone was staring at them.

Ron and Harry were moving over to help Hermione off the ground as Professor Snape came speeding towards them with a snarl on his face. "What is the meaning of this?" he questioned heatedly, his eyes scanning over all three of them and Hermione suddenly blanched; did he think that she was involved in the making that mess? "I don't know why I am even surprised. It was bound to happen sooner or later, wasn't it?" He muttered before looking to Hermione. "Don't be over dramatic, Granger. Get off the floor and straighten yourself out, will you?" he snapped with derision as he crossed his arms over his black clad chest. The Slytherins in the room snickered maliciously, while the rest of the class turned a blind eye, not wanting to be involved in any way.

"But sir, I-," she began to explain, but was abruptly and bitterly cut off.

"I don't want to hear any of it, Miss Granger. I don't know why, but I expected better of you," he tutted and shook his head. "A shame, really. Two brews rendered utterly useless. Such a waste of expensive substances, too."

Upon hearing this, Hermione looked over to the table and noted that her cauldron, too, had been erupted in the blast. The potion she'd worked so hard on, gone because of inattentiveness. Anger rippled through her as she looked to Harry and Ron. Oh, they'd be getting it later, that was for sure. Snape snickered nastily as he saw her expression shift to the two boys. Hermione looked over to the dark man and narrowed her eyes. "You know as well as I do, sir, that my brew was near perfect. You saw it! You're just pretending you didn't to fail me for once," she accused harshly with a slicing tone, her face twisted in resentment.

Snape looked at her for a moment before stepping closer to her with a growl in his throat and a sneer on his face. "You forget your place with me, Miss Granger," he scolded lowly, his voice rumbling through her as he spoke causing her to catch her breath and back off a bit.

However, just as she had lost her nerve, she gained it back. It was going to take a little more than close proximity and a resounding voice to shake her. "And I think you forget yours, sir! Acting all high and mighty by picking on your students. Yes, something to be really proud of!" she retorted, but just as the words slipped off her tongue and slithered out of her mouth she immediately regretted her disrespect.

Snape grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her towards him with a tight grip, her toes just skimming the floor. She may not exactly be short at five foot six, but he was much taller than her all the same.

"Hey! Get your hands off her, you greasy git!" Hermione heard Ron call out in defense from beside her. She was willing to bet that Harry was restraining their hotheaded friend from doing something he'd surely regret, but she was too focused on Snape's charcoal eyes to bother a glance in their direction.

Leaning down to her face level, Snape bared his teeth as he warned, "You will watch your tongue with your superiors, insolent girl, or _will_ rue it." And she did not for a second doubt him. Just as he had grabbed her, he hastily dropped her to her feet and took a step back. "You will see me tonight for your detention, Miss Granger. And every Tuesday and Thursday night from now until Christmas break, for that matter," he informed her coolly. He looked around, now addressing the class, "Bottle whatever you have completed and place it upon my desk with your name and get out. You have Miss Granger to thank for the shortened time allowance," he said with a nasty smirk shot in her direction.

Hermione flushed from both the heat of anger and embarrassment as her classmates glared at her with contempt. The man was acting so childishly that she wondered how he could have ever gotten a job as a teacher, or wanted to if he hated children as much as he obviously did. Her eyes flashed over to Ron and Harry, both of whom stood with their hands shoved deeply in their school robes. They were actively avoiding her scathing glare. She growled and grabbed her school bag off of the soiled floor. She could not care less that her bag was drenched with the failed draught. With any luck, she'd inhale some of it and relax a bit. Or die. Either way, she'd escape this feeling of mortification.

When everyone but Harry, Ron, and Hermione had left the room, she looked at them deep scorn and shook her head in disappointment. "You two can clean up this mess. I'm going to the library. I'll see the both of you in Transfiguration."

As she was about to leave the room, the man she wanted to be around least stopped her at the door, "Tonight at eight, Granger, after dinner. Do not be late. For every minute that you are late, I will deduct five points from Gryffindor. And with great pleasure, too." Hermione detected a sick sadistic twist in his voice, and in that moment she realized that she never felt so much loathing for a teacher in her life. Without another word, she left the room and quickly made her way out of the dungeons.

* * *

An hour or so later, Hermione sat alone at her Transfiguration work table awaiting the arrival of Harry and Ron. While she was not as mad as she was before, she was still very unhappy and frustrated. Embarrassment still lingered as she felt the scornful glares from her classmates as she walked around the castle. She rolled her eyes. They were all acting so childish. It was as if they have never messed up before, which obviously was not the case. And she hadn't even been the one to mess up! She only defended herself, albeit stupidly, against Snape's persistent cruelty.

_Well,_ she thought to herself, _they'll have someone else to hate by tomorrow_. And she knew she was right, because that's how things worked at Hogwarts. Or anything school or facility that housed angst ridden teenagers, for that matter.

Finally, just in time for class to start, Harry and Ron plopped down on either side of her looking haggard and worn. Hermione held back a grin. "What took you two so long?" she asked, looking at the boys.

Ron dropped his head to the desk and groaned. "Don't even ask, Hermione. You're only gonna rub it in."

"Snape made us clean the mess up by ourselves. Without using any sort of magic," Harry informed her and he wiped his robe sleeve over his sweaty forehead. "It was awful. Do you know what it's like scrubbing burnt potions out of a cauldron?" Hermione shook her head, but was sure she'd find out by night time what it was like.

"Well, it's not something I ever want to do again, that's for sure," Ron said, sitting up straight and look ahead.

Hermione scoffed. "There is an easy solution to that, you know. Read the instructions and don't be careless. It really is as simple as that, Ronald."

Ron shot her scowl and was about to retort before Professor McGonagall entered the room with a solemn look on her face. Hermione's stomach clenched tightly. Something was wrong. As she looked around her, she realized that no one else noticed but her. Looking up, her eyes caught the old professor's and she was confused when the older witch offered her a sympathetic shake of the head.

Hermione was not quite sure that she wanted to know what was going on, so she ignored it for the time being. Perhaps she would find out later, but she would not venture just yet. If she was meant to know about it, she would find out in due time.

"Today we will be turning your text books into mice, and then turning the mice back into text books. Extra house points will be awarded to those who turn the mice back into the correct textbook without fault. Begin," Professor McGonagall instructed in a sober tone. Hermione gulped as her heart began to beat faster.

As everyone around her began working on their assignment, Hermione placed her wand on the table and beckoned Harry and Ron to shift closer to her. "Do either of you notice how oddly Professor McGonagall is acting?" she asked in a whispered tone, her eyes flickering from Harry's to Ron's.

Both boys shrugged and moved back to working on their their task. "I guess so," Harry said with a shrug, "but then again, isn't everyone acting different these days?" He flicked his wand and turned his textbook into a toy mouse. "Think she'll accept this?" he asked, his eyes locking to Hermione's.

She shook her head with a small grin. "I don't think so, Harry."

While everyone else was attempting, and surely failing, to turn their books into real live mice, Hermione could not keep her mind or her eyes off of her suddenly strange professor. Something was up and it was making Hermione very, very uneasy. She could sense the tension coming off McGonagall in waves and she shivered.

"Ah-ha!" an exclamation came from a few rows ahead of her. "I did it!"

Hermione looked down to see Neville Longbottom smiling widely as he held a mouse up in the air for everyone to see. "Did you see that?" he asked anyone who was listening.

With a flick of her wand, Hermione turned the book easily into a small, white mouse.

Professor McGonagall smiled proudly at Neville as she examined the tiny mammal. "Very good, Mr. Longbottom. Now let's try to turn it back."

Neville's smile faltered, but he nodded and began to work on turning the rodent back to paper.

As McGonagall rounded the room, she passed by the Trio and stopped to evaluate their progress thus far. Hermione took this opportunity to turn her white mouse back into the correct textbook to garner the elderly woman's attention.

"Wonderful work, Miss Granger," she said with a small choke in her voice. "Ten points for Gryffindor. Stunning work, as always."

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked, calling the woman back before she was too far away.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" She was avoiding eye contact with the younger witch at all costs, it seemed.

"Is everything alright? You seem a bit… odd today, if I may say so," Hermione asked quietly with concern lacing her words.

Professor McGonagall gave her a tight lipped grin and shook her head heavily. "Is anything quite alright in these dark days, Miss Granger?" And before Hermione could respond, the witch turned on her heel and walked away, leaving to Hermione bite her lip in apprehension. Something was definitely wrong, and Hermione was not sure if she wanted to know the full details just yet.

* * *

**So? What do you think? Please leave a follow, favorite, and/or leave a review! It means a lot and will encourage me to update! Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed! See you soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

While sitting in the Great Hall with Ron and Harry, Hermione poked at her food with her golden fork. She'd been waiting all day with a nervous knot coiled in her stomach, and feared that eating would only make her feel sick. Daring a glance at the Head Table, Hermione noticed that her curt professor was missing from attendance. She furrowed her brows, thinking it odd that he'd assign detention for after dinner, but not even be present for the dinner itself. Either way, she was relieved that he was not there to stare her down, which allowed her nerves to unwind a small bit. She shoveled a forkful of roast potatoes into her mouth before dropping her fork to the table.

"Everything alright there, Mione?" Her eyes snapped to her left as Ron spoke to her. He was looking at her intently, as though he'd been observing her the entire time, which he probably had been. She sighed and pushed her plate away from her as she rested her elbow on the table.

With her chin resting in her palm, she turned her head towards Ron and sighed exasperatingly. "I suppose I'm just a bit nervous, is all," she said with a shrug. "My first real detention and it just has to be with Professor Snape of all people."

Harry piqued in with a small smirk on his lips, "Y'know, there's a pretty simple solution that." Hermione looked at him curiously and skeptically while waiting for him to elaborate. "Don't choose Professor Snape to be the teacher you finally snap at. Easy as that, I think." Ron and Harry shared a laugh, but they quickly quieted down as they noted Hermione's glare. Both boys took in a forkful of their dinner as they looked away.

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yes. Thank you, Harry. I didn't ask for your commentary, anyway," she muttered as she scanned her eyes across the hall. Most of the students were still eating their food, and some had begun on their dessert already. Snape had told her to head down after dinner. She wondered if he counted dessert as dinner, as well, or if he omitted it by not mentioning it. She decided it would be wise to leave now, just so that she needn't deal with the consequences later.

As she rose from her seat and grabbed her bag from the floor, Ginny Weasley's voice beckoned her attention. "Good luck, Hermione," she said as she offered the bushy haired girl a small grin. "I've had detentions with the greasy bat before, and I know you'll need it."

While Hermione knew that Ginny was trying to assuage her nerves, the redhead's words only seemed to add fuel to the flame. She smiled all the same and thanked her friend before heading toward the exit.

"Have fun cleaning my cauldron, Granger," a cold, slimy voice called out from her left as she reached the double doors. Looking to her side, she saw Draco Malfoy sneering at her with his two cronies from the Slytherin table. "Try not to get your vile fingerprints on it. I don't want to have to throw it away." He shared a laugh with his 'pals' before Hermione pushed out of the room with a scowl on her face.

If there was anything she regretted today, it was sitting next to Ron and Harry. Not mouthing off to her professor, no. He deserved a scathing word or two. But had Hermione sat elsewhere, she'd have a perfectly good brew, a perfect grade, and she'd be able to spare herself a ton of embarrassment throughout the day. She sighed and shook her head as she headed to the dungeons for her punishment.

* * *

Her heart began to race in her chest as she approached the door to the potions classroom. She could feel each beat vibrating throughout her body, the slow, pulsating heat filling up each vein and beating against her sternum. She paced for a few moments outside the door, her eyes flickering down to the light emitting from the space between the door and the floor, before she willed herself to knock.

_Why are you so scared now, huh? You were acting all brave not even eight hours ago, yet here you are, scared out of your wits. Absolutely pathetic_, she chastised herself.

_Yes, but there were witnesses around then,_ she reasoned.

With a huffed of breath, Hermione raised her hand to the door and knocked sturdily on the thick wood twice. She did not have to wait long before she received a response from the obscure man inside. "Enter," the man's dark voice came from the other side, sounding only slightly muffled by the barrier. She pushed open the door and entered the classroom with a large step. She shivered involuntarily as she examined the empty dungeon. While it was not exactly 'warm and welcoming' during the day, it at least seemed like a habitable place. Now, however, when there are only two occupants in the room, everything seemed more ominous. The corners seemed two shades darker, the floor seemed a few degrees colder, and the space between her and her professor seemed somehow smaller.

"What are you waiting for, you silly girl?" he barked at her as he peered up at her from his papers. "Shut the door and get over here; I don't have all night!"

Hermione did as he said, the door closing behind her with a resounding click, and approached his desk hesitantly. Her bag slung heavily from her right shoulder and her arms were crossed over her chest. She looked up at his face and waited.

The professor did not look up at her and he did not speak to her. He simply graded the scrolls before him, dipping his quill into a pot of red ink every now and again as he did so. She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, simply waiting in heavy silence. Her blood began to boil and fester; had he not just been the one who told her that he didn't have all night? She knew he was teasing her and she didn't like it. Her face twisted in annoyance and hatred for both the situation and the man. Finally, she decided to speak up and break the stifling silence. "Sir, I thought you said that you didn't have all night," she bit out with her teeth grinding together in her mouth. "Or is it my punishment to just stand here, waiting for a command that will never come. Almost like a dog," she muttered as she moved her hands to rest on her hips.

Professor Snape finally looked up at her with a spiteful scowl and leaned back lazily in his chair. His arms came to cross over his chest as he scrutinized her. Her body tensed under his hefty gaze. "I am only going to say this to you _one more time_, Miss Granger, and you'd do well to listen," he warned as he rose from his chair and leaned over his desk toward her. Hermione did not move away from him, however much she wanted to. "You will respect me. You will know your place when it comes to your superiors. Have no doubt about that," he growled in her face, a puff of his breath blowing back her hair. "I do not give a damn how your other professors allow you to talk to them, I demand respect from all my students. Even if they are mindless and uncouth." His lips were pulled back to bare his teeth as he spoke. Hermione kept his eye contact, and he kept hers. "If I want to make you stand at my desk for the next eight or so hours, you will do so. Is this clear?"

Quickly and without hesitation, she nodded and was instantly relieved as he moved back to sit at his desk. He appraised her from his position and sighed. "I was going to spare you tonight, and give you the task of rearranging my stores, but seeing as you've not learned to keep your tongue with me, I feel the need to reassign you to something more… arduous." He shook his head as he procured his wand seemingly out of nowhere. With the flick of his wrist, he summoned twenty or so dirty, grimy cauldrons and gave her a nasty grin. "Tonight you are to scrub those until they shine," he said with a sneer. "Without using magic." He conjured a bucket, soap, water and two gloves along with a brush and an old dish rag.

As she grabbed the materials and moved to head to the cauldrons, Snape called her attention one last time. "And Granger?" Hermione looked over her shoulder at him with a raised brow. "No talking. And absolutely no questions."

The silence began.

* * *

About an hour and a half into her work, Hermione had only successfully cleaned seven cauldrons. Sweat was forming on her brow and she had her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She'd discarded her heavy school robes a while ago, and was now on her scabbing knees scrubbing away at the mess. She regretted not having helped the boys now more than ever.

Looking over her shoulder, she spotted Snape still working on his papers and she shut her eyes with an audible groan.

"What is it now, Miss Granger?" Snape asked her emphatically. She could simply tell by the tone in his voice that he was rolling his eyes at her as he spoke.

She sat back on her heels and tossed the rag and bristled brush he had given her onto the floor. "I was just wondering how much longer until I am done," she replied quietly as she wiped the back of her left hand across her glistening forehead.

Snape looked up at her with a smirk and sat back. "Well, how many cauldrons have you cleaned?" he asked her, his tone somewhat light.

"Seven," she replied with a heavy breath. "I've done seven cauldrons, and I'm almost done with the eighth."

"Hm," he began, his hand stroking his jagged jaw line. "And how many did you begin with?"

Scanning quickly over each and every cauldron, she completed an estimate. "Twenty one, to start with."

"Ah." Snape leaned forward and dipped his quill into the red inked pot as he focused back on his grading. "Then after this one, you only have to do thirteen more. And then you may leave."

Hermione's jaw dropped as she looked at the professor in shock. "Bu-but, sir!" she exclaimed as she rose to her feet. Her knees ached as she stood, but she ignored the dull pain. "It's a Tuesday night! I've got classes in the morning, and it's almost nine thirty right now! It'll be past midnight by the time I've done all of them!" she complained.

Snape sighed and rubbed his temples with his index finger and thumb as though she were giving him a headache. Hermione felt a surge of rage; he didn't have to keep her here. He did not need to be around her, yet he was acting as though he was being forced at wand point to spend time with her. All he had to do was dismiss her and they'd both be relieved of this mutual torture. "I suggest you get to work quickly, then, Miss Granger, if you want to get some sleep in tonight."

With her mouth wide open, she turned on her heel and cocked her head to the side in frustration. With her back to him, she murmured under her breath so that he could hear, "Why don't you do us both a favor and let me leave."

"What was that, Granger?" he jeered, obviously hearing what she had said.

"Nothing, sir," she spat out as she dropped to her knees and began scrubbing away at the new pewter cauldron.

"That's what I thought," he simply said.

Once again, the silence ensued.

* * *

It must have been around eleven forty when Hermione began working on her last two cauldrons. Her eyes were drooping and her motions were becoming much more slow and heavy. Every once and a while, she would yawn loudly and shut her eyes, as to simulate what sleep would feel like at that very moment.

Neither student nor professor spoke to one another, and the ringing silence did not help keep her awake or focused on her task at all. In fact, she would often find herself dozing off in the middle of cleaning a cauldron, having forgotten where she was, until she heard the flipping of parchment or the dripping of thick ink and she was reminded of her place.

Now, though, she was so close to done that she could taste it. When she had ten cauldrons left, she was overjoyed at being more than halfway done, but as the number got smaller, it seemed the distance to the end got larger. It was like counting down the days to Christmas; when there is only one month to the holiday, it seems like it's tomorrow, but one week from it and it seems like an eternity. That's how Hermione felt at that moment. She felt like the torture would never end.

Just as she finished her twentieth cauldron and began on her last one, as hissing sound of pain erupted from behind her. She jumped and snapped her head to look at her professor in shock. He jumped from his seat and grabbed his robe off his chair. She noticed with wide, startled eyes that he was holding down onto his left arm. She gasped and stared at him.

Just as he slipped on his robes, his eyes rose to hers and narrowed. She suddenly felt cold and empty inside, and as though the air had been sucked right out of her. He looked more frightening than she had ever seen him. His face was etched with pain, hatred, and absolute fury, twisted in agony. "Get out!" he bellowed at her. She jumped and yelped, but was frozen to her spot. Her feet would not move; would not heed the commands of her brain. He growled and strode to her in four long strides. He grasped her arm in an iron clad grip and yanked her towards him as he strode to the door. "Are you deaf? Get out! Leave, now!" He shoved her towards the door and she yelped in shock and pain.

"B-but-" she began as she rubbed her arm to assuage the bruising pain, but was interrupted by the raging man.

"Now!" he all but roared, his voice seeming to rumble through the floor and up her body. "And don't tell anyone what you saw! Do you hear me, you senseless girl?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes!"

"Leave!"

Hermione did not wait to get out of the room. She ran. And she did not once think about going back to retrieve her book bag or school robes.

* * *

With her face pale and her body shaking, Hermione slowed her run to a wobbly walk as she made her way out of the dungeons. The entire encounter was replaying in her head. Voldemort had been summoning Snape, and she had been witness to the painful, traumatizing event. She'd never seen him, or anyone, in such burning pain and with such vehemence. She thought he was going to attack her.

As she wiped her hand on her cheek, she realized she was crying. She shook her head. She had no right to cry. She'd only been the witness of the pain, not the recipient of it. If Snape was not crying, she should not be either. And yet, she could not seem to stem the flow of tears from her eyes.

As she turned the corner to the hallway that leaded to Gryffindor Tower, she bumped into something, or rather, someone.

"Oh, I-I'm terribly sorry," she said as she looked up and saw Professor McGonagall looking down at her with a stern expression.

As the elderly witch looked down and noticed Hermione with tears in her eyes and on her face, her expression softened greatly. "Oh, Miss Granger…" she began and pulled the girl into her arms. "You've received the letter from the Ministry, haven't you? It's horrible, isn't it…?"

Hermione's face pulled together in confusion. "W-what?" she questioned the professor as she pulled back and looked at her. "What letter?"

McGonagall's face and posture stiffened. "Never mind I said anything, Miss Granger. What has you out at these hours in such a state of distress, now?" she quickly changed the subject. Hermione knew what the witch was doing, but she allowed the conversation to stray anyway.

Hermione shrugged. "I just came back from detention with Professor Snape, and…" she began to elaborate, but stopped herself. "And I'm just stressed and tired. He's not exactly the easiest man to be around."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and smiled tightly. "That he is not, Miss Granger. That he is not." Her voice was laced with despondency as she spoke these words to the girl.

As the two were about to pass each other going in opposite directions, Hermione turned on her heel and called back. "Professor?"

The woman turned with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, child?"

Hermione huffed and ran a hand through her hair. "Something terrible is coming, isn't it?"

The older witch's eyes turned solemn as she lowered her gaze to the floor. With a curt nodded she look back up to the young girl. _The young girl_.

"Something that's an absolute crime, Miss Granger." And with those lasting words, the professor turned the corner and left Hermione in the hallway by herself to fester in her thoughts.

* * *

**What do you think? Did you enjoy it? Hm? Well, I hope you did because it took me a while to write. And I hope people are reading this and enjoying it, because I am really enjoying writing it! Please follow, favorite, and/or LEAVE A REVIEW! Please, it really motivates me! See you soon! Bye lovelies!**


	3. Chapter 3

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* * *

Wednesday past by much quicker than Hermione would have liked, bringing Thursday in its stead. It did not help that she had spent most of Wednesday night in the library doing extra research and working on Arithmancy homework. It wasn't until she began drooling on her parchment that she realized how late it actually was.

That's why, as she walked down the staircase from the seventh year girls dormitory, she looked and felt as though she were still in bed.

"Morning, Hermione," Neville called from his seat near the fireplace. "You look like you could use a few extra hours of sleep today."

"Thank you, Neville," she responded as she plopped down next to him. She sighed as she savored the heat from the fire radiating in her face. Turning to Neville, she asked, "Are Harry and Ron up yet?"

Looking at her with a quirked brow, he nodded. "Yes… they got up about an hour ago, actually." He then gave her a strange, questioning look. "Speaking of which, don't you have Potions with them right now?"

She snapped her eyes up to the stroppy boy and reached out to grab his arm. "Neville, what time is it?" she asked him.

His eyes shifted around the room. "It's – uh…" but when he didn't answer fast enough, Hermione jumped to her feet and ran her hands through her hair.

"Oh, Merlin!" she bawled as panic built up in her chest. "Never mind. I've got to get out of here. Oh, gods." She hurriedly scooped up her bag from the floor and ran out of the room. Snape was going to give her a harder time tonight than last time, that much she could infer. He was already annoyed with her for yesterday.

* * *

_Wednesday Morning: Approximately Eight Thirty_

Hermione paced outside Professor Severus Snape's classroom nervous as she built up the gusto to knock. Honestly, she'd forgotten that she had left her robes and bag in the dungeons until she woke up and reached for them at the end of her bed, only to find them missing. She swallowed heavily. She certainly was not ready to face the dangerous man again, especially after last night.

A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the events of his summoning. His anger, his pain, and, underneath it all, his fear. How he'd grabbed her, how he'd shoved her, and how he'd shouted at her; bellowed her dismissal so resoundingly she was sure it shook the stone floor. Still, beneath her fear, she found herself wondering if being summoned was always that brutal. She would not for a second doubt it if it was.

Heaving in a heavy sigh, Hermione raised her small fist to the barrier that lay between them and she knocked, three hefty times. And then she waited. And waited.

And waited.

There was no answer. She found this to be odd, for the professor had class in less than half an hour and she had not seen him in the Great Hall that morning. Taking in a breath, she reached her hand down and curled it around the old, silver knob. Slowly, she turned it.

But nothing happened. The knob did not move and she was not granted access into the classroom. She huffed and tried again, getting frustrated at the fact that she may not be able to obtain her bag from the Potions room before class started. She really needed her bag and robe. As of now, she was in her vest and skirt, and she'd surely get points deducted from Gryffindor for violating the dress code if she went to class dressed so casually.

Suddenly, an idea popped into her mind. What if it was just locked? Nothing special about it, no wards, just plain old locked. After all, it was just a classroom. It wasn't like they were his private quarters. She hastily pulled out her wand from her skirt pocket and prepped herself.

With the flick of her wand and a whisper of, "_Alohomora,"_ the locked clicked and Hermione pat herself on the back. She also felt giddy at the prospect of doing something against the rules without having Harry or Ron involved, even if it was only something small like breaking into her Potions classroom.

As she pushed into the room, she scanned its contents quickly, making sure that the churlish professor was nowhere in sight. He was not present and Hermione was grateful to whoever was looking over her. She smiled and stepped further into the room, allowing the door to close slowly behind her. She hadn't even heard it closing until the click of it shutting rang through the room. She instantly spotted her bag and her robe. If she was quick enough, she could grab them and run, not having to worry about coming in contact with the foreboding man.

As she approached Snape's desk to retrieve her possessions, something on the surface of the table caught her eye. It was an envelope, laid out on top of stacks of parchment, and the writing was written in purple ink. The signature color of the Ministry of Magic, from what she could tell. She felt wrong, looking at the envelope, even if she was not doing anything to it. She had not planned on touching it, or even reading what it said, but it felt wrong just staring at it. It obviously was not her business.

But she just could not help herself. Without moving from her position and without actually touching the envelope, she strained her eyes to read the calligraphy that was scrawled on the cover.

_Severus T. Snape_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

It said it was addressed to. Her eyes moved to the corner of the rectangular paper.

_Cornelius Fudge_

_Minister of Magic_

_Regarding: Act 147A_

Hermione inhaled sharply and looked over her shoulder. This must be it. The letter from the Ministry that Professor McGonagall had been talking about. The one that's absolutely horrible, apparently. She bit her lip and shut her eyes. She knew she shouldn't touch it. It was a federal crime in the Muggle world, but she was just so curious. So tempted. So frightened.

She had to know.

Hurriedly, she shrugged on her robes and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, so that she could leave as soon as she was done. She wasn't going to read the entire notice, she just wanted to know about the act. She felt so wrong.

Hesitantly, she slid the official letter off of the table and into her hands. She reread the front of it, admiring the penmanship in the script before flipping it over and examining the deep purple wax seal.

It was then that she came to her sense and realized that it was none of her business at all. If it was her business, she would have received a letter from the Ministry as well. In fact, this could have nothing to do with the new act McGonagall was going on about. She felt guilty for having even had the idea that this was okay for her to do. Just as she was about to lay the letter back where it had been originally, she felt a presence behind her and tensed.

"Do you enjoy reading other people's mail, Miss Granger?" She slowly turned on her heel to face the man she'd been hoping to avoid. His rigidness and the anger present on his face reminded her of the other night and she shivered involuntarily. She still held the envelope in her hands. "You do realize I could have you arrested for this, hm? And then I'd being doing myself and a majority of the school a huge favor," he growled as he snatched the letter out of her hands and shoved it underneath his arm.

"Sir, I-"

"Ah, I do not want to hear your petty excuses, Granger," he snarled as he crossed his arms and leaned down toward her. "It seems to me that you've broken a string of rules to be here in the first place; picking locks and breaking wards, not to mention attempted thievery."

Hermione's brows furrowed. There had not been any wards in place that she recalled. He must be mistaken on that note. She looked down to her shoes and remained silent.

Upon hearing Snape's heavy sigh, she looked up to see him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I really am not in the mood to deal with impertinent, brazen brats at this hour," he mumbled, keeping his eyes shut. "Get out before I change my mind and have you apprehending in the middle of dinner. And fifteen points from Gryffindor for breaking a slew of rules I don't have time to name."

Without hesitating, she quickly exited the dungeon classroom and fled to ground level. She could not believe her luck, but yet she could not shake her guilt. Snape had looked so exhausted, so pained. He must not have had the energy to punish her accordingly. Whatever the case, she got her bag and robe, and most of all, she did not read the contents of the letter.

* * *

As Hermione ran from Gryffindor Tower down to the dungeons, she ignored the cat calls and jeers of paintings on the walls and leapt over missing steps on the moving staircases. She needed to get to class. Potions had started ten minutes ago and she'd missed breakfast.

She knew that Snape would not let her slide by on this the same way he had with the letter. In fact, he may add the letter incident to this and rub it in her face.

By the time she made it to the Potions room, she was out of breath and red in the face. She'd ran the entire way from Point A to Point B, and definitely did not have to lungs or shape to have done so. With only mild hesitation, she entered the classroom. Everyone stopped midway through their work to stare at her. The Slytherins sniggered maliciously with sadistic joy and her friends looked away for her sake. Professor Snape looked up from his desk at her and frowned even deeper than he had been.

"Ah, welcome, Miss Granger. We're all so pleased you could fit us into your demanding schedule," he sneered as he rose from his desk. His eyes scanned the classroom and he growled, "Get back to work, you petulant imps!"

Everyone accordingly went back to work. Snape turned his attention back on Hermione and scowled deeply, his lips twisted in a nasty sneer. "You've been very, very impudent lately, Granger. I'm now seeing why you belong in Gryffindor after so many years of wondering why Ravenclaw missed such a great opportunity with you," he mocked, and Draco Malfoy snorted from the corner of the room.

Hermione frowned. "I guess I've just been less tactful, then," she responded bravely.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "It's a shame that you're beginning to plateau, then, in times like these. I guess pressure does weigh some down more than others," he retorted sharply, his lips turning upward in a smirk.

Hermione flushed but kept her retort locking in her mind. "I guess it is."

Snape sighed and pinched his nose. "Get to work, Granger," he ordered, turning to return to his desk. "Potter and Weasley will fill you in, I'm sure. Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your tardiness."

Hermione stared at him in surprise before shaking her head and moving to sit with her two friends.

"Wow," Ron said looking just as surprised as she was. "I never thought I'd live to see the day where Snape is actually… well, I don't want to say lenient, but for him, that was."

Hermione nodded and pulled out her book from her bag. "Yea, me neither." She shook her head and peered up at her troubled teacher. He seemed a bit off, but who was she to care. She looked over at Harry. "What page are we on?"

* * *

After having completed her homework and eaten her dinner, Hermione left her bag and robe off with Harry before heading down for detention with Snape.

A tingle went up her spine as she thought about him; her memories with him as of late. How frightening he'd been the other night, and how merciful he'd been recently. It was so… new. It was different. She'd always known the man to be stoic and bitter and overly rude, but never had she known him to violent or… lenient, as Ron had said.

Well, she supposed it could be said that she did not actually know him, only knew him as a teacher. It was fair to say that he did not actually know her either. Perhaps in these detentions with him, she'd come to see more of the man than he let on.

Before she knew it, she was outside the Potions classroom door for the fourth time in three days. She knocked twice before being granted entrance. She closed the door behind her and walked to his desk without being asked to do so. "Sir," she greeted with an inclination of her head respectfully.

He looked up to her. "Miss Granger," he greeted in return. He rose from his seat and she took a step back involuntarily. He noticed and sighed. "Miss Granger. I'm going to get this over with now so that in the future we could avoid your timidity around me. The man you saw the other night… was not me," he said as he rounded his desk and walked toward the classroom door. "That man was possessed with pain, and evil, and he was only trying to get you away before something bad happened. I may not be the nicest of men, Miss Granger, make no mistake, but I would never, ever, hurt you or anyone under my care. Are we clear?" he looked at her with raised eyebrows.

She released a breath and nodded. "Yes, sir."

He snorted, "Good." He wrenched open the door and looked back to her. "Come now. Tonight your punishment will be done in my office."

She followed in his suit as he strolled out of the room.

* * *

Snape's office was neither large nor small. It was large enough for a desk, two lounging chairs, a fireplace and a large filing cabinet and bookshelf, but there was little room for much else.

"Tonight, while I grade third year papers on flaxseed, you will organize the fourth drawer in that filing cabinet. No magic, of course." He sat down and shot her a look. "And don't get any ideas. There's nothing special or important in there, but I don't want you reading the files. I had them arranged by overall size and girth, but I'd like them alphabetized. Get started. No talking."

Hermione sighed and allowed the silence to overtake the room. As she began pulling out the files from the cabinet and placing them on the floor, she realized the drawer was much larger than it appeared, meaning it was able to hold more files than she originally had though. She groaned and dropped to her knees, beginning to shift through and find all files that began with the letter A. She had a feeling this would take longer than the cauldrons.

* * *

She was working on files that began with the letter F when she heard a soft knocking come from the office door. Professor Snape looked to her before looking at the door. "Who's there?" he asked in an intimidating tone, his voice as low and resounding as always.

"Severus, my boy, I was wondering if you have a minute," the voice of Albus Dumbledore called from the opposite side of the door.

Snape sighed and flicked his wand, allowing the door to swing open. "I'm busy with a _troubled student_, can't you see? Can this not wait until tomorrow?" Snape asked the older wizard in an annoyed voice.

Dumbledore simply shook his head and sighed. "I am afraid what you and I have to discuss is of the upmost importance. And, if I may add, confidential," he said as his eyes slipped to find Hermione's behind those half-moon spectacles. She blushed and looked away as she rose from her position on the floor and wiped her knees free of dust.

Snape nodded and gestured for Dumbledore to take the seat across from him "I'm afraid we'll have to cut this short, Miss Granger. You are… dismissed," he spat as though the words had tasted poorly on his tongue.

Hermione nodded and moved to leave the room when Dumbledore called, "I'm truly sorry for the interruption, my dear girl!"

Hermione laughed and waved her hand. "Not at all, sir, Any time. I mean it, any time."

And she quickly left, hurrying off to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

As Hermione walked through the portrait hole, she was greeted by Ron and Harry sitting with Neville and Seamus by the fire. They all seemed surprised to see her.

"Oi, Hermione," Ron said. "What are you doin' back from detention with the bat so early?"

"Yea, he never lets anyone out before ten, at least," Harry added with a snort of derision.

Hermione shrugged. "Dumbledore came in a cut my detention short," she responded as she took a seat on the floor in front of Ron. "Had to talk to Snape about something or another."

Ron snorted. "I wish Dumbledore would cut my detentions short. Any idea what they were meeting about?"

"Yea, did you eavesdrop at all?" Harry inquired.

Hermione reach over and smack Harry on the leg. "No! What do you take me for?" She rolled her eyes. "But I think they were talking about some act the Ministry is putting up. Something bad," she said as she shook her head. "And before you ask, no, I have no clue whatsoever what it is about."

"How do you know all this?" Neville asked, looking at Hermione.

She sighed and wrung her hands in her lap. "McGonagall asked me about receiving a letter regarding the act from the Ministry… so it obviously has something to do with us, I'd think. She seemed really torn up about it."

"Do you think Voldemort is behind it?" Harry asked brazenly. Everyone in the room flinched at the name.

"I don't know, Harry. But It's not good. It's not good at all."

* * *

**So? How do you guys feel so far? Don't worry, the action is coming soon, I promise. This is going to be a long story, so stick around! Review please! I hate to beg, but you know! Please and thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow! Really, thank you all so much for the response! Your reviews mean so much to me and I hope you keep them coming, haha! I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing! Well, here's the next installment! Enjoy!**

* * *

Severus Snape stared at Albus Dumbledore as the door clicked shut behind Hermione Granger. She'd just been dismissed early from her detention and Severus was boiling; whatever it was the headmaster had to say, it had better be worth Miss Granger getting off early. For some reason, he was sure it was, indeed, of the upmost importance. Dumbledore seldom ever wandered to meet with him in the dungeons. Severus sighed and rubbed his aching temples.

"Have a seat, Albus," Severus offered as he lifted himself from his seat to greet his master. "I'm sure this discussion will not be light. Why don't you, as they say, take a load off." He sneered at the old muggle expression as if it left a sour taste within his mouth.

Dumbledore nodded and offered a tight lipped smile in return as he took his seat across the desk from darker man. "Your assumptions are indeed correct, Severus, unfortunately for us." He looked up to the younger wizard from behind his half-moon spectacles and crossed his left leg over his right.

Severus' expression darkened and his stomach tightened as he heard the ominous tone in the headmaster's voice. He knew that whatever news he'd be receiving on this night would change the path of his life and the war effort significantly. He mentally began to prepare himself for the blow that was inevitable coming. "Get on with it, _Headmaster_," he growled impatiently as he crossed his arms over his chest.

The elderly wizard sighed and shut his eyes momentarily. "I'm sure you've received notice of the Ministry's newest act, Act 147A, if I recall the code correctly," he said as he stroked his long silver bear in thought.

Severus' stomach unknotted a bit, but then tightened immediately; what could he be asking of him? Perhaps he was just informing him of what was to come. But why, Severus wondered, would Albus be here to simply recite the information that he already knows from the letter he received early today? There must be something more, he concluded. "I've… heard of it," he affirmed with a stiff nod and waited in silence for the headmaster to continue.

Dumbledore grunted and nodded slowly a few times. "And I'm also sure you understand why we cannot let you be married off to some witch somewhere that we know nothing about, yes?" The old man had the nerve to shoot him a small grin from behind his beard.

Severus scowled rolled his eyes. "Oh, just get to the point. No need to beat around the bush with me, it doesn't work," he spat as he eyed the man before him with impatience.

Sighing and leaning forward, Albus looked Severus in the eye for a long moment before adding, "I'm also sure you know of someone else affected by the law that we just cannot let out of our sights." He raised his eyebrows at this new information.

For a moment, Severus was stumped. He pondered what the man could have meant for a moment before coming to the sickening realization. He snarled at the man, "No. Absolutely not, Albus. I'll do anything for you but this. I've done everything for you, but this, oh, this is just out of the question. I surely hope that what I'm wrong about what you're insinuating."

Calmly, Albus shook his head and inhaled deeply through his crooked nose. "I'm afraid, Severus, that there is no alternative. We simply cannot risk losing you and Miss Granger to whoever bids the highest, surely you understand," he said in a tone that implied that there was nothing Severus could say that would change the outcome.

Severus shot to his feet and rounded the desk. Grabbing the arm rests of Albus' chair, he leaned down, almost touching noses with the wise wizard and exhaled heavily. "You do realize what the law entails, don't you? The horrors she'll face if she is bound to me? I am not a kind man, Albus, and I'm certainly not going to change who I am for some… some silly child!" He stood up straight and stalked away from Albus and shook his head. "They'll think – _she'll think_ that I'm some lecherous old man! This will open a Pandora's box of issues, surely you're not blind enough not to see!" He spun around and looked at Albus with a pleaded expression. "You can't ask this of me. You just can't," he now begged quietly.

The headmaster looked at Severus deeply before sighing sadly. "Once again, Severus, I must ask too much of you," he began, "she won't have a seconds time to even think about your unscrupulous intentions before we inform her otherwise. And aside from her and some others, no one will have to know."

Returning to his seat, Severus sat down heavily and pulled open his desk drawer. He pulled out a silver flask and took a deep swig of fire whiskey, savoring the sting it left in his throat afterwards. The pain was a blissful get away from the situation he was currently facing. "That doesn't change the fact that I will have to taint her, Albus."

"You say that also though you are poisonous, Severus," Albus said with a sad smile as he eyed the flask in the distressed man's hand.

Severus bit out a harsh laugh and shook his head before taking another swig. "Am I not, Albus? Am I not poison on that girl?" He shook his head again. "When will she be informed of his ill fate?"

Albus simply offered a sympathetic look. Severus fought the urge to hex that man into the next century. "In good time, my boy."

With that, Albus rose from his seat and left Severus to himself. The sullen man waited until the door clicked shut behind his _master_ before he took another swig and threw the damned flask at the wall opposite him in rage. What was to become of him?

* * *

Hermione woke up reluctantly, stretching her arms high over her head and lying there for a few moments before she finally opened her currents. The early morning sun pooled into the room, causing her to squint her eyes in the harsh light. She noted that Parvati and Lavender were also dragging their limp bodies out of their beds, easily looking as tired as she did. She couldn't imagine why, though, for they were fast asleep by the time she had returned to the seventh year dorm.

After getting on her school uniform and Gryffindor robes, Hermione was finally beginning to wake up. She wanted to get out of there before the two became awake enough to gossip and ask intrusive questions, so as soon as she was dressed and ready, she was heading out the door and down the spiraled stairs.

Down in the Common Room, Hermione was greeted by Harry, Ron, and Ginny sitting by the fire along with Seamus and Dean. "Good morning," she croaked as she approached them, offering a smile in their general direction.

"Oh, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed excited as he rose from his seat on the floor to greet her. "I think I've come up an idea about the act you were talking about earlier," he said, looking over his shoulder to Ron. "Ron and I were talking last night, and we came to the conclusion that all of us must be getting a letter from the Ministry." He bit his lip and ruffled his hair with his hand.

Hermione looked skeptically back at the boy. "If we were all receiving a letter, then why would McGonagall single _me_ out and not either of you?" she pointed out, looking past Harry's shoulder to Ron.

"Why _wouldn't_ she single you out? You're the most logical and rational of the three of us. Plus, what could the Ministry want from you that they don't want from either of us?" Ron piqued up, looking between Harry and Hermione. Ginny and Neville watched the exchange from the outside, listening intently.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know, maybe. I don't really want to talk about it right now," she said walking past Harry to get to the portrait hole. "Let's just go get some breakfast and maybe we'll find out later on today."

Harry looked back to Ron and nodded reluctantly. "Okay."

The six of them made their way out of the Common Room and headed down to the Great Hall.

* * *

The Great Hall was sparsely occupied when the group arrived, but quickly began filling up as they took their seats at Gryffindor Table. Hermione dropped her bag by her feet and began filling her gold plate with eggs and toast, lightly buttered. She wasn't very hungry, but wanted to distract herself at the moment; her mind kept travelling back to McGonagall's words, Snape's letter, and her detention last night. She inhaled deeply and took a bite of her toast.

When Harry, Ron, and Ginny began talking about upcoming Quidditch trials and their opposing teams, Hermione's attention began to gravitate towards the Head Table. She noted with some relief and worry that Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore were both once again absent from attendance. What could that mean? Her knee was bouncing anxiously beneath the table. She didn't want to know what was going on, but at the same time she felt that if she didn't find out soon, she'd die of anticipation.

Just then, the Great Hall become a wild frenzy of feathers as the post owls flew in, dropping off letters to whoever was receiving any. Hermione's heart began to beat rapidly and heavily in her chest as she looked intently at each owl. She held her breath as she noted one school appointed owl heading in her direction. Was it coming to her?

Hermione yelped as a larger letter dropped onto her plate, right on her food. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the mess. Hesitantly, with a shaky hand, she flipped the letter over and what she saw made her stomach drop; the Ministry stamp. Looking side to side to make sure no one was watching, she brought the letter to her lap under the table and tore it open, holding the paper it contained in her hands. For a few frozen moments, she kept the paper folded in her lap, fearing what information may be inside. Finally, she unfolded the official letter and read through the contents:

_Hermione Jean Granger,_

_The Ministry would like to inform all female Muggle-Born's of the Wizarding World that Act 147A of the Ministry of Magic has been passed by the Wizengamot as of 6 September 1997. It is with great regret that we inform you that you are mandated by the law to adhere to the restrictions and demands of this course of action. All of the requirements to this act are non-negotiable, and any insubordination to the act is punishable by law._

_Requirements of Act 147A include the following:_

_-Female Muggle-Borns, ages 17 to 35, are obligated to wed a Half-Blood and/or Pure-Blood wizard between the ages of 20-45. _

_-Within 3 years of this marriage, a child must be conceived._

_-Immediate consummation is required among newly-weds. A renewing of the bond must be made once weekly. Ministry officials will be performing checkups bimonthly to ensure the legitimacy of the union._

_-You will have 2 weeks to receive marriage proposals, and in that time frame, if you do not accept any of your options or have received no proposals, a Ministry official will find you suitable partner and you will have no say in the matter._

_As of now, you have received: _**0 proposals.** _Of these proposals, you may only choose one to be your partner._

_Hoping that you are well,_

_Signed – _

_Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic_

_Department of Matrimonial Decrees_

_Ministry of Magic_

Hermione's face turned beat red and her knuckles were becoming white as she clenched the paper tightly in her fist. Anger was boiling up inside her as she reread each and every word of the letter. _What am I? A slave?_

"Hey, you all right?" Ginny asked, laying a hand on her friends shoulder as her eyes flicked down to the letter in Hermione's hand. Ron and Harry were too busy talking with Dean about Quidditch to notice the girl's conversation. "May I?" she asked Hermione, slowly moving to grab the paper, not wanting to startle the troubled girl.

Hermione nodded as her jaw clenched. She handed the paper to Ginny, who promptly began to read it; the more she read, Hermione noticed, the deeper her scowl became. Tears were beginning to well at the corners of Hermione's eyes, but she held them back defiantly, not wanting anyone to notice her distress.

Ginny crumpled up the sheet in her hand and looked over to Hermione, whose fists were clenched in her lap. "This... this is disgusting! We have to bring it to Dumbledore! There is no way he can let this happen to you, or anyone else here, for that matter!" she exclaimed incredulously, standing up and looking to the staff table suddenly noting Dumbledore's absence.

"He already knows... There's nothing he can do about it, Ginny," she said, her voice cracking as her walls began to weaken. "I have to go... do homework before classes start. You stay here. Please," she pleaded shakily, snatching the crumpled sheet out of Ginny's hand and hurriedly leaving the Great Hall before she could be seen. Against her greatest will, Hermione's tears began to stream down her cheeks; she would be married off to some stranger, unable to finish her school or help Harry and the Order with the war against the Dark Lord.

Even worse, she would probably end up being tied to a bed, becoming a breeding machine to some man who would never love her, a man whom she would never love. Her virginity was being sold away. Her life was as good as done.

* * *

Outside the Great Hall, down a deserted hallway, Hermione slid down the cold stone wall, resting her forehead on her knees. A few deep breathes later and she was able to clear the tears out of her eyes before they spilled over once again.

"Miss Granger, the headmaster requests your presence. That is, only if you're in a decent state," a cold voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up from her knees to face her potions professor, who was standing a few feet before her with his arms crossed over her chest. For a second she thought she had been mistaken, but she soon realized how very real this was and nodded.

Pushing herself off the wall, she wiped her cheeks once more before deciding to follow him, wherever it was that he was heading.

As she found herself stood in front a large stone gargoyle, Hermione realized they were going to Dumbledore's office. After mumbling _'Cherry Truffle_,' the Gargoyle moved aside for Professor Snape and the two of them headed up the staircase to the headmaster's office. Without even knocking, Snape and Hermione entered the office. Lo and behold, there the headmaster stood, casually beside Fawkes the Phoenix with a sad smile upon his aged face. "Ah, Miss Granger, I see you've received your letter."

"Yes," she answered a bit more sharply than she had intended to, but neither man took notice of her tone, or least they pretended no to.

"Have a seat, will you?" He motioned for two chairs opposite his desk, where he now moved to sit at. Both Snape and Hermione took their seats respectively.

"Have you received any proposals yet, Miss Granger?"

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "Thankfully, no, I've not," she said.

"I had thought not. Perhaps now would be a good time for you to check again. I'm sure that number has since changed, unfortunately," he said, a sad smile donned his features, his eyes lacking their usual twinkle.

She rolled her eyes as she unraveled the paper and her eyes widened slightly at what she had seen: where there had been no offers just minutes back, there were now four. "I-I guess I've got four," she sputtered, feeling rather confused.

Slowly, and hesitantly, her eyes moved down the list of names:

_Bill Weasley_

_Charlie Weasley_

_Gregory Goyle Sr. _

_Lucius Malfoy _

Her eyes widened broader as panic began to set in. "I-I cannot marry any of these people! Bill and Charlie are like my brothers, and Goyle and Malfoy are ruthless Death Eaters! Either way, I wouldn't be able to attend school! I won't take my NEWTs and-and," she began to ramble, her eyes brimming with tears once more and this time she was not so sure she could hold them back.

"Shh," Dumbledore cooed. "Fortunately for you, child, there is a solution," he assured her, his eyes still not twinkling behind his spectacles. Snape shifted nervously in the seat next to her.

"You can get me out of this?" she question with a hint of skepticism, her face contorted in confusion and hope. She wiped her hands on her cheeks to clear the tears away.

"I'm afraid not, but there is a way you could be married and remain in school," he told her, shifting in his robes, then turning to approach the fire place.

"But none of my friends are of age," she said, leaning forward in her seat, a thread of hope still there in her voice.

"Not a friend, but perhaps someone older, more mature," he said.

She laughed humorlessly and looked away from the man. "Who is there? Filch? Flitwick? You? I'm sorry Professor, I mean no disrespect, but the only older people here are members of the staff," she said snappily.

"I was actually thinking something along the lines of someone younger," his eyes flickering over to Snape, whose eyes were locked on the window and his jaw was clenched.

Her eyes grew in sudden realization. "No, no, no, you couldn't possibly mean-" she cut herself off with a gulp.

"I'm afraid so, Granger, but don't go thinking I wanted any part in this," Snape growled, not even bothering to look at her as he spoke. "If anything, I want this even less than you."

"Headmaster! There certainly has to be something else-"

"I'm sorry, dear, but alas there is not. I assure you if there was another way, you'd be out of this mess by now," he said, his eyes turning to Snape. "Severus, anything you'd like to say to Miss Granger?"

"No."

"Well, Miss Granger, that leaves you with a choice to make. I do apologize for having put you in such a difficult position," he said, his voice warm and comforting.

Hermione looked from Dumbledore to Snape. She suddenly understood the expression, 'stuck between a rock and a hard place.' She inhaled deeply and looked to her lap. "I accept," she said hesitantly as she shut her eyes. "I accept your proposal, Professor," she finished more confidently, looking over to Snape who still had his gaze locked outside. "However unwanted it is for the both of us…"

"And it is unwanted," Snape added lowly with a snarl.

"Wonderful," Dumbledore interjected, his eyes twinkling now as his hands clapped together.

"Yes, how wonderful, indeed," drawled Snape sarcastically. He finally turned his gaze to Hermione, his eyes so dark and cold that a shiver ran through her. "Saturday is the soonest day I'm available for this monstrosity, so I do hope it's fine for you," he offered with mock consideration.

"As fine as it will ever be, I suppose."

* * *

As they exited the office, about to part ways, Snape turned to face Hermione, "Don't think for one second that simply because of our unfortunate arrangement that you are free from any previous punishments. Be at the dungeons same time tonight," and with that he disappeared around the corner.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if she had been saved, or been put in an ever worse position, if possible. At least she'd be able to finish out school, she thought with a sigh. But was it worth it? Really? In retrospect, she knew that the man was doing her a great favor, and she would not soon forget the sentiment.

* * *

**The law is revealed! I hope you liked Severus' little POV! I have a hard time writing him because he so ominous and mysterious! I hope I did him justice! I also really hope you all enjoyed the chapter, because I know I had fun writing it! Please, please leave a review with your thoughts, concerns and questions! Also praise, if you enjoyed, of course! I'll see you soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much for the response! It makes me so happy to know that you are all enjoying the story so much! I hope you continue to enjoy it and maybe leave a review or two! Here we go!**

* * *

Hermione stood outside Dumbledore's office door for a few moments in silence after Professor Snape had left. She didn't quite know what to think of this all, or why it was happening. Why would the Ministry instate such an act in the first place? Why was there need for this to happen? Upon these thoughts in her head, Hermione turned on her heel and knocked resoundingly on Dumbledore's door.

"Come in, dear," his voice rang from the other side and she did not hesitate to open the door.

As she reentered the office, she took her time to examine it and take in its beauty as a whole. The red drapes hung heavily from golden pipes above the floor to ceiling windows, and the carpets on the floor were matching red and gold hues to compliment the dark wooden feel of the room. There were wall to wall bookshelves, filled with encyclopedias and spell books she'd never heard of, and a clear glass cupboard containing multicolored phials.

Finally she looked to Dumbledore and cleared her throat. "Sir, I apologize for bothering you further, but I've been wondering about this since I received the notice this morning. I was just too… preoccupied to ask you earlier," she said, looking to the olden wizard who sat before her in a plush red desk chair.

From behind his lengthy silver beard, so saw the corners of his mouth turn up in a knowing grin. "Ah, of course. Have a seat," he offered as he held his hand out towards the leather seat across the desk. She sat down promptly and crossed her legs, right over left. "I have to say, Miss Granger, I was indeed expecting you to ask about this earlier, and was surprised when you refrained."

Hermione smiled tightly. Of course he knew what she was going to ask; it was only so obviously coming. Inhaling deeply, she looked the man in the eyes and asked, "What exactly is the logic behind this, excuse me, nonsense? There has to be a reason, why else would the Ministry appoint the act?" Her words were precise and strong but there was a tremor in her voice that gave her away.

Dumbledore sighed and took off his glasses to wipe them clean on his pale green garnished robes. "As you well know, Voldemort is at the peak of his power," he began as he slipped the spectacles back onto his crooked nose, "and other members of our world have taken notice as well. As of late, there has been a significant drop in the numbers of witches and wizards left in our community. Many have relocated elsewhere, in fear of what is to become of our world, and others that have not left are being slaughtered.

"Because of this, you see, the population is significantly lacking. I'm sure you've noticed the dwindled numbers of students that arrived this year to Hogwarts, yes?" Hermione slowly nodded. "With the population at an all-time low, the Ministry, however irrational, deemed it absolutely necessary to use this act as a way to boost the census of the British Wizarding World."

For what seemed like an eternity, Hermione and Dumbledore stared at each other in silence. She was absolutely fuming, all the thoughts in her mind buzzing in a furious rage. She scoffed bitterly and stood from her seat. "And this is how they mean to do it? Marrying off young girls to – to _suitors_ they know nothing of? I wonder how many of us are to be tied down to beds and made for breeding stock! How disgusting!" she ranted, her faces getting hot and red and her knuckles clenched so tightly that they appear to be white. "And why only muggleborn girls, too? Seems a bit prejudiced to me. Not that I would wish this upon anyone else, but why single us out as the sole group to be bred with? Can you answer that, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked at her sternly for a long second before speaking up, "Miss Granger, you will have a seat and calm down or you will leave." His voice sound so stern and final that she stopped her pacing and looked to the man with wide eyes. She complied and took a seat, her breathing still heavy in her chest and out her mouth.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's just too overwhelming. You have to understand what this must be like from my point of view," she reasoned, looking up to him and noticing his weary, blue eyes.

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "I don't have all the answers to this nonsense, but I can ask you this: why half-blood and pure-blood males and not muggleborns as well? That may seem prejudiced from the other side as well, wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione shut her eyes and leaned back against the stiff leather. In her mind, she knew that Dumbledore was indeed right; while it seemed prejudiced to her that only muggleborn girls are subject to this, there is also the fact that half-blood and pure-blood males are subject to this also. "You're right, sir. I apologize for my state right now. You'll have to forgive my hysteria."

"Do not apologize for this, Miss Granger. It is out of our hands, and you have every right to be distraught. I will, however, ask you not to lose your composure like that ever again. It is not good to show that sort of weakness these days, understand?"

Hermione opened up her eyes and looked to the headmaster carefully. She nodded and stood from her seat on the leather chair. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore smiled to her, but she noticed it did not quite reach his eyes. "Glad to hear it, my girl. Now, I hate to kick you out but your friends must be missing you. Go on," he said as he waved her to the door. She turned on her heel and began to exit the room when he called out to her one more time, "And Miss Granger?" She looked over her shoulder to him as she kept her hand on the curved, golden door handle. "As much as you want me to see this from your prospective, I want you to see this from Severus'. He may be the only person you can relate to in these harsh times."

With that last message, Hermione opened the door and exited the office. She'd gotten the answers to her questions, but now her mind was buzzing with something totally new. How _did_ Professor Snape feel about all of this?

* * *

Hermione spent all day dodging questions from the boys on where she went off to after breakfast that morning. They questioned her in Charms, they questioned her in Transfiguration, and they certainly questioned her in lunch. She simply kept brushing them off, telling them that she'd gone off to the library in search of something to occupy her time.

It was quite obvious by their continued questioning and skeptical looks that they did not believe her for one second, but thankfully they let it go.

It was late in the day, and Hermione was sitting by herself at a gold table in the library. The chamber was silent and sparsely occupied, but for Hermione it was as if she were all by herself. She always chose to sit in a secluded corner of the library, behind the towering dark wood bookshelves with the back of her stiff chair leaning against the light gray stone wall. Next to her was a small window that looked out to the Black Lake and often Hermione would look down in search of the Giant Squid. She never once saw it, but she would never stop looking.

The sun was low in the sky and cast a dim shadow over the side of her Arithmancy book that was spread open on her table. While the subject was very interesting to her, her mind just would not focus on the words, but instead chose to focus on the situation that was mapped out in her mind. Marriage. To Professor Snape. Whenever she had this thought, she trembled. Was it in disgust, in fear? She wasn't quite sure, to be honest.

She could just imagine the rest of her life now. Stuck in his dark, dismal, humid chambers, her hair reacting to the damp air in absolutely horrific ways. The only way they would be able to communicate would be through sarcasm and insults, and then of course their mandated coitus. That made her cringe in both fear and disgust, that was for sure. The last thing in the world she wanted was to imagine sex with her professor, yet she couldn't keep her mind off it. It was coming soon. In fact, she realized, it was tomorrow.

Her eyes widened in realization. Today was Friday, and tomorrow was Saturday. A pain ripped through her skull; this was going too fast. She groaned as she held her head in her hands and pulled her hair.

She'd be married by the time class was back in session and no one would know except for her, Professor Snape, and one Albus Dumbledore, the ring master. She dropped her head to her book and let of a low whimper, which turned into a sob.

This time, she was not able to contain her agony.

* * *

An hour later she was still in the library, sitting in the very same position she had been left in and stuck on the same page of her book. It would seem nothing had changed, except for the fact that the sun had lowered considerably in the sky and her face was red and tear streaked. Now she was sitting rather stoically, with her back pin straight and her eyes staring straight ahead of her at the rows of books on a distant bookshelf.

She was embarrassed by her actions, by her emotions. She wasn't supposed to lose control like that; hadn't Dumbledore just told her that? She needed to remain composed and that was the absolute opposite of composed. She was sure that someone, somewhere in the library had heard her. She also knew for a fact the Madam Pince had heard and seen her, but gladly ignored her in her state of embarrassing anguish.

And, in the back of her mind, she felt selfish. She is not allowed to feel this way. Sure, she is being married off to her most hated professor, but he was saving her from something far worse; saving her from something that is sure to be the tragic destiny of many other girls like her who don't have the status to be saved. She knew that everything could be much worse, yet here she was, pitying her poor fate. At least she knew where she was going to end up and how her life would most likely be. Of course it would not be ideal, but at least she knew Snape would not chain her to the bed and keep her as his slave. No, he hated her too much to keep her in his constant presence. She should be grateful.

"There you are, Hermione," a voice cut through her thoughts. Hermione looked up to see Ginny smiling sadly down at her as she took a seat across from her. Ginny gave her one looked and shook her head sadly. "Oh, Hermione…"

"I'm okay, Ginny," she reassured the redheaded girl. "It's just been a long, stressful day and it's really wearing me down." Hermione ran her hand through her wild mane and groaned as it got caught in the knots.

Ginny looked at her disbelievingly. "Hermione, you know you're allowed to be upset. At least around me, and don't worry because I won't judge you. This must be… beyond difficult. I can't even try to console you because I don't know how to deal with this. I'm sorry," she said with a waver in her voice.

When Hermione looked up, she noticed tears welling in Ginny's eyes and her throat constricted. "Don't you dare start to cry. I could have it way worse than I actually do, Ginny. I don't have anything to worry about. Dumbledore came up with a fair solution and I'll be able to stay here with you all. It's okay," she comforted her friend as she rubbed her arm.

Ginny wiped her eyes with her sleeve and laughed lightly. "I come down here to help you and you wind up consoling me. Absolutely bonkers." She then looked at Hermione seriously. "Do you know who you're going to marry, then?"

Hermione inhaled and looked out the window beside her before nodding. "Yes, I do. But please don't ask me who, because I'm not sure I'm allowed to tell anyone yet. He's safe and he will protect me."

"Then that's all that matters then, right? Who cares about a name when I know he'll keep you safe?" Ginny stood up and held her hand out for Hermione. "Let's go get some dinner, all right? And don't worry, no one knows about the law yet but you, me, and a few other girls I saw today."

Hermione hesitated before grabbing the girl's hand and standing up. "Okay. I haven't really eaten much today anyway, and I'm starving. Just let me drop my stuff off at the tower and we'll head down to eat."

Ginny nodded and smiled and the two of them made their way to Gryffindor Tower in a solemn, yet comfortable silence.

* * *

It was when Hermione was headed down to the dungeons for detention that she remembered it was a Friday. Hadn't Snape only assigned her detentions for Tuesdays and Thursdays only? Why had he asked her down to the dungeons on a night that they could avoid seeing each other, a concept that would please them both?

As she made her way down the winding staircase to the dungeon, she pulled her robes tighter around her body. She always seemed to forget how frigid it was below the castle. To think she may have to spend the remainder of her days living down here.

This time she did not hesitate to knock as she reached the doors to the Potions classroom. When she heard him invited her in, she did so and shut the door behind her, walking straight to his desk and stood before him. "You asked for me tonight, sir?"

Snape looked up to her with his dark, foreboding eyes and stood up. "Yes, I did." He rounded his desk and stood right in front of her, only leaving about two feet between them. "I only require a few moments of your time tonight, Miss Granger. As you can probably tell, this is not a detention, but rather a meeting between you and me."

Hermione looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. She really shouldn't be surprised at this point; he obviously had a flare for dramatics. He could have just asked down here for a talk rather than ordering her down for detention. Then again, asking her down for a talk would mean that she had the option to refuse, and perhaps he thought that she would.

"Well, I'm here. If you want to tell me something by all means do so, sir," she said. While her words may have sounded demanding and churlish, her tone held nothing but respect.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he let out a heavy sigh. "You don't know what you are signing yourself up for with me, Miss Granger," he began and cleared his throat, "I am by no means kind. I will not change who I am because you are my _child bride_," he spat the term with disdain. "I will not have you thinking that I will regenerate into a new man because of this absurd arrangement between you, myself, and the headmaster.

"I'd also like to get this straight with you now: I am a man of secrets, secrets that must be kept to keep myself, and those around myself, alive. You will probably learn more about who I am than you'd ever expect to in this shame of a marriage which means that you, in turn, will need to keep secrets. This means lying will become part of who you are on a daily basis. Are you up for that, Miss Granger?" He taunted her with both his patronizing words and his eyes. She simply scowled and nodded. He scoffed. "Yes, we'll see how that goes. Another thing I'd like to add is that I am a man who enjoys his privacy. With that being said, you will not be residing in my quarters, instead remaining in your rooms for the rest of the school year. Thankfully Dumbledore granted me this one _luxury_ as it will help keep our fallacy under shades. Is this all clear with you?" He looked at her with raised eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest.

Hermione placed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Do you think I am delusional, sir? I did not expect you to change who you are because you simply got married to keep order in our world. No disrespect, sir, but you are not exactly a 'family' man. I know you are not kind, or nice, or generally pleasant and I have no misapprehensions of you changing the way you are. It's no secret that you're cantankerous and unpleasant. I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk down to me like I am some child."

Snape laughed harshly in her face. "You say that as if you aren't a child right now! Look at you, you have the figure of an underdeveloped fourteen year old boy and the face of a first year girl! And they expect me to deflower you still!" He laughed maliciously with a sneer.

Hermione blushed and looked away, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. "You don't have to be so mean, you know," she said quietly.

Snape quieted his laughing to a low snicker as he reached over his desk to obtain his heavy robes. "I was just stating the obvious, Granger." He clipped the robes onto his body and pushed past her to the door. "That's all I wanted to say. If you want to stay here and sooth your wounds, by all means feel free to do so. I, however, have business to attend to. I'll see you tomorrow night. An owl will be sent with the time and location." Without so much as a goodbye, he left, the door swinging shut behind him with an echoing click.

Hermione was left standing in the room, looking at the floor. She inhaled with a quivering breath and shook her head. Why was he so mean to her? It's not as if this ordeal was in the least bit her fault. In fact, had he not offered himself to her, he'd have avoided this whole situation and save her a lot of embarrassment.

Just as she was about to cry for the third time that day, she stopped and recalled what Dumbledore had told her. Try to imagine this from his point of view. While she could not fully understand the man, she could imagine that being married off to a student more than half his age would be unnerving. Still, that being said, it did not give him the right to treat her in such a disrespectful manner.

She decided that she needed a walk. Outside. In times like these, she always liked to clear her mind with the cool brisk air that came with Hogwarts.

* * *

**So? What do you think? I know Severus is really harsh, but can you really expect any different from him at this stage? I promise he will get better and you will see from his point of view some point in the future. I mean, I cannot start it off with him being coddling. That is where character development comes in! It will happen gradually, but I promise it will come! Please leave a review with your thoughts and feelings. Thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Thank you all again for all the story alerts and favorites, I really love them! Here is yet another update for you readers, and please, if you can, review! It would mean a lot to me if you did!**

* * *

Mid-September at Hogwarts always proved to be bitter and this year was no exception. As Hermione stepped outside into the early night, the wind viciously sliced at her cheeks sending a shiver down her spine. For a moment, Hermione thought about turning around and going back inside, but then she thought about seeing Ron and Harry; surely, in the flustered state that she was in, they would ask questions and she couldn't handle having to lie to them at the moment. Pulling her school robes up to cover her nose and mouth, she continued her walk further out on to the school grounds.

Her mind was racing with questions still left unanswered: why would the Ministry pass such a ludicrous act? Couldn't they at least wait until she had finished school? Why was age 17, not 18, the minimum age for witches to be wed, while 20 was the minimum for wizards? Double standards like that drove Hermione nuts. Then again, maybe it was for the best she couldn't marry someone her age, after all girls did tend to mature faster. There was also the fact that Ron would surely petition for her, and though she loved him, she loved him like her brother and nothing more. He would be furious when she refused. She sighed and tightened her cloak again.

Before she knew where she was going, she found herself standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, her eyes travelling up the trees and scanning the darkness and utter vastness of it. Without really thinking the process through, Hermione stepped over a thick, broken branch and continued down the dirt path that led further into the foreboding darkness ahead.

The deeper she ventured, the darker the wilderness became. Pulling her wand out of her robe pocket, Hermione uttered a quick, "_lumos,"_ before she travelled even deeper into the thick woods. For a long while, she savored the silence and peacefulness of her choice. She'd been in the forest before with Hagrid, Harry, and Ron, but this time was different. This time she was able to appreciate the solitude that came with it. For once, she also savored the feeling of breaking the rules, feeling that she was simply paying her retribution to the Ministry by her actions.

Suddenly, a loud crack sounded from behind her, causing Hermione to jump straight out of her skin and turn while directing her wand at the possible attacker. Out from the thick brush emerged a tall, beautiful centaur; his elfin ears pointed sharply and his red hair curled softly around his face. "Hagrid?" he called out, looking around before finally landing his eyes on Hermione. He offered her a look of confusion and indifference. "You're not Hagrid."

"Very well spotted," she uttered, shooting him a curious luck. "Who are you?"

"You come to my home and ask me who I am?" he questioned her incredulously, though his voice was warm and kind as though he were merely pointing out a minor error in her manners.

Lowering her wand to her side, she shook her head. "Forgive me, you're absolutely right." She bowed her head while peeking up at the centaur from beneath her lashes. " I am Hermione Granger," she introduced herself, still looking up to him as he stepped in closer.

"Hermione Granger...," he drawled. His eyes moved away from her gaze as they shifted up to the opening in the tree leaves. Hermione followed his trail and saw a clear path to the stars. "The stars are rather bright tonight...," he said clearly, still not offering his eyes to her.

"Hm," she replied unnerved as she lowered her eyes from the clearing and rested her gaze back on him. "Mind me asking you who you are now?" she questioned, brushing off his previous statement as unimportant.

Finally, he removed his eyes from the sky and settled back on her. "Savro," he replied proudly, his hands knitting together across his bare front. "Hermione...," he repeated, his eyes once again finding their way up to the charcoal night. "They tell a story for you," he said shaking his head solemnly.

She nervously quirked an eyebrow at him before scoffing incredulously. "Forgive me, but I do not believe in such trivial prophecies," she stated, though not maliciously.

"Be careful, child, it's a fair warning. The stars are quite bright this night," he repeated.

Without saying another word, Hermione moved to make her way back towards the castle, that is, until she realized that she had forgotten from which way she had come. Brandishing her wand once more, she commanded, "Point Me," to help her find her way back to the path. Unfortunately for her, the wand simply spun in circles frantically.

Just as before, she heard a branch snap from behind her; this time, however, she did not jump, suspecting it to be Savro simply following her, or perhaps leaving. "Savro...?" she called out, her call turning more into a question.

When the centaur's deep voice did not call back to and the footsteps continued forward, she pinned herself against a tree and did not move, keeping her eyes on the source of the noise, whatever it had been coming from.

Out from the darkness, a man strode past, his black robes whipping severely behind him. Hermione's heart leapt out of her chest as she saw him come into the light of the clearing; it was Professor Snape and he seemed to be unaware of her presence. As he began to walk further away from her, she made her way out from behind the tree. "Professor," she said in a whisper, merely wanting to garner his attention.

He whipped around with his wand pointed threateningly at her. Hermione leapt back and held her hands up as her breath caught in her throat, her eyes focused on the wand in her face.

Upon realizing who had surprised him, Snape's austere eyes narrowing into thin slits as they connected with her small figure. "_Miss Granger?_" he hissed through surely gritted teeth. She knew she had made a mistake in making herself known and that he was not amused; not amused at all.

Her silence was enough of an answer for him. In four long strides he stood in front of her, his scowl deeper and more twisted than ever. "What in Merlin's name are you doing out here, you petulant little girl?" He snapped as he stared her down. "Do you think that because you're a _Gryffindor_ you can go about breaking school rules like they're disposable quills?" he interrogated angrily.

Hermione winced at the slicing comment. She knew that she was in the wrong in this situation, that under no circumstances should she have been in the forest unsupervised. "I-I got lost, sir," she said meekly, her eyes averting to avoid his harsh glare, even in the dark.

He let out a mirthless laugh. "For one to _get lost_ here, one would have to venture here, knowing full well it was _against school rules. _Hence the name." He grabbed her arm tightly and began dragging her back towards the path from which he had come from. For a long time, his silence terrified her.

"Are you taking me back to the castle?"

"_No_, I'm bringing you to Hogsmeade for a hot butterbeer and dinner," he snapped sarcastically. "_Yes,_ I'm taking you back to the castle, you stupid girl," he bit venomously, not looking back at her.

"Sorry," she muttered, stumbling along behind him. She had known it was a stupid question the moment it rolled off her tongue, but she was in a state of shock. Sometimes she could not help her words or actions.

As they exited the forest, Snape released his vice like grip on her arm, leaving her to rub away the bruising pain. "Twenty points from Gryffindor. Under normal circumstances you'd surely be up for expulsion, but seeing that you're part of the _Golden Trio_, you merely receive a slap on the wrist." His words were filled with such hate and loathing that she physically flinched at his verbal assault.

She sighed and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Now get to your tower, Granger, before I decide to be less merciful," he said quietly, giving her a soft shove in the direction of the castle. She looked back at him and opened her mouth to speak before he shot out a finger pointing to the school. "Oh Merlin, could you be more impulsive? I said now!" And without another word, she ran full speed towards the castle.

* * *

In the Common Room, Harry sat there with Ron, hurriedly working on their transfiguration essay when Hermione burst in, heaving with wheezing breaths. The other students in the room looked at her warily before moving to their dormitories; they knew they had no good business being there at the moment. Harry stood up at the sight of her; she had twigs in her hair and looked very windswept. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked as he plucked a branch from one of her unruly curls.

Brushing his hand out of her hair, she walked past the boy and slumped down into a plush red seat beside the fire, relishing in the heated glow. "Nothing," she lied, waving her hand at them. "Just... nothing. Peeves...scared me on the way back from detention, I kind of bolted straight here. It was an outdoors detention tonight, as you can probably tell," she added, rubbing her forehead. She noted Harry giving her a skeptical look, while Ron simply nodded, obviously buying her Peeves story. "Thought you said those were due Friday?" she quickly changed the subject as she directed her gaze to their rolls of parchment.

Ron shook his head and huffed."Yea, well so did we."

"Until McGonagall decided to move it earlier. Really, sometimes I think she _knows_ when we're stalling on our work!" Harry said as he sat back down and picked up his quill, frantically scratching away as the scroll.

"Well, serves you right, I'd say," Hermione said, wiping a strand of curly hair out of her flushed face.

"And what do you mean by that, huh?" Ron challenged, dropping his quill and staring at her.

She simply shrugged and looked towards the fire. "I mean that she gave you over a week to do this and you were going to wait until the last night to get it done." Ron opened his mouth to retort before simply rolling his eyes and continuing to work on his paper. He seemed to have decided that she did was not worth wasting his breath. She only smirked and looked to Harry. "Perhaps I should leave you boys to get some work done. Plus I've got to get up early tomorrow," she added, pushing herself out of the ever inviting seat. Stifling a yawn, she walked to the stairs and grabbed her bag. "Good night and good luck, you two" she said with a small smile.

"Night."

"G'night."

Up in the 7th year girls dorm, Parvati and Lavender were talking about Halloween plans, obviously something she could not care less about at the moment. As they saw her come into the room they took in her exhausted appearance and tried to squirm some juicy gossip out of her. She decided to ignore them and changed quickly into her night gown before crawling into bed for a well-deserved night's sleep. Sleep was always good.

* * *

The next morning in the Great Hall as everyone was enjoying their breakfast, Ginny tugged on Hermione's sleeve, promptly gaining the girl's attention. "What?" she asked, wiping crumbs off of her hands onto her golden plate.

"Don't look now," the red head whispered lowly, her eyes flickering to the side, "but let's just say at the moment there _are a pair of __serpent__ eyes_ burning holes straight through your back."

Ignoring Ginny's warning, Hermione looked behind her and found her eyes connecting directly with Draco Malfoy's. He smirked at her knowingly, his eyes unnerving her deeply though she'd never show it. She played it cool and decided to just roll her eyes and turn back to her plate.

"What was that all about?" Ginny asked, leaning in close to her bushy haired friend.

Hermione shrugged and pushed her plate away from her, now having lost her appetite. "Who knows? Malfoy being Malfoy, I guess." She rose from her seat, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'm just gonna head down to the library for a while. I'll see you later," she said before striding out of the Great Hall by herself.

She knew exactly why Draco was staring at her like she was a piece of raw meat, and she did not like it one bit. She wondered if he was already informed that she had chosen a suitor other than his father to be her future spouse. She was sure that he would not be looking so cocky had that been true.

"Hermione!" she heard Neville call from behind her. She turned to him with a false smile and slowed down, allowing him to catch up with her despite the fact that she truly wanted to be alone.

"Hi, Neville," she greeted with falsified happiness.

"Yea... I, well, I was just wondering, and all...," he wrung his hands nervously; his mouth seemed to suddenly become drier than the Sahara Desert.

"Well, out with it, Neville," she urged him, turning down the corridor that led to the library.

" I just want you to know that- well I know it's not my business or anything, but I overheard you and Ginny the other day," he told her, looking down to his feet.

Hermione's eyes widened as she felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She stopped in the hallway and grabbed Neville by the lapels of his robes. "Overheard what, Neville?"

"Don't worry, Hermione, I won't tell anyone!" he said rather quickly, before looking to the side away from her. "I just wanted you to know that I'm here if you ever, you know, need to talk, I guess. I don't know, forget I said anything," he muttered as he tried to move away from her.

She made an 'O' with her mouth, her eyes softening, "Oh, Neville. I'm sorry-I didn't mean anything by grabbing you like that, really. I honestly did not think," she said as she released the boy, patting him on the shoulder. "I just… I don't want people talking just yet. If word got out about this, I don't know what I would do," she explained herself as she bit her lip."

He smiled lightly, his eyes brightening only slightly. "No, I understand. I'm sure I'd be freaked out too, if I had been forced into that situation. I just don't want you to feel alone. I know you have Ginny, but you can never have too much support," he said as he awkwardly placed his hand on her shoulder.

* * *

Hermione did as she said and made her way to the library to read. Much like the last time, however, she wound up spending most of her time looking out the window to the lake with her mind being otherwise occupied.

An hour and a half into her private time, she was disturbed by a deep, familiar timbre coming from behind her. She jumped slightly before looking behind her at her soon-to-be husband. Very soon-to-be, at that. She gulped and nodded at him in greeting. "Granger, a word, if you will," Snape commanded as he rounded her and took a seat on the opposite side of the table, much like Ginny had just the other day.

"Yes, sir," she said compliantly. He sat there across from her in silence. As time ticked by, so did Hermione's nerves; was he always going to play these mind games with her? With a scowl she broke the silence, "You wanted a word, correct?"

"Yes," he drawled. "It's about tonight," he said, looking around before casting a muffliato charm around the two of them, encasing them in an invisible shell of silence.

"Right, tonight," she said, a nervous knot forming in the pit of her stomach. "What about it?"

"I think it best if we..._reschedule_." This time he looked up to her, folding his hands as he spoke, his black eyes looking into her amber ones.

"Reschedule?"

"That is what I said."

"But-why?" She asked, her face contorted in a soft confusion.

He inhaled deeply before twisting his face in a scowl and reaching his left hand deep into his robe pocket. Hermione did not miss this motion. "Something has come up tonight that I do not wish to disclose with a student such as yourself. I think it best we go for Sunday instead," he said as he pulled a small, cylindrical phial from his robes and held it in his palm.

"Has it got anything to do with You-Know-Who?" she asked, though she was almost certain that her assumptions were right. His sharp answer was merely a confirmation.

"That is none of your concern, now is it?" he snapped, standing abruptly and striding around the table over to her. "I've informed the headmaster of this alteration, and he's passed it on to the Ministry. I do hope Sunday is not an issue?"

She bit her lip and looked nervously towards the door. "I suppose not... but I have Potions the next morning..."

"Don't think me to be a fool, child," he rolled his eyes. "You'll not miss any classes Monday, I assure it."

"Well, alright." She did not press further, though she knew he did not understand her worries. He shoved the phial from his palm to hers. "What-" she began to question but was cut off.

"Contraceptive Potion," he answered for her. "Takes a few days to kick in and works for about a week," he stated and she understood.

"But don't we... have to... _conceive?_" she asked, her voice quiet and her face flushed a deep shade of crimson.

"Believe me Miss Granger, impregnating you is not on my resolutions this year. Don't tell me you wish to be the mother of _my_ child at such a young age?"

"No, but... never mind," she shut herself up, her face looking down defeated.

"Now go on, Granger. I'll not hold you any longer than necessary. Meet up with your little _friends._ Do as you please, it's none of my concern," he said as he began to stalk away, silently removing the charm from the two of them.

Shoving the phial deep into her school robes pocket, she flashed him a sharp scowl before shutting her book and sighing. One thing was left on her mind: she was going to have to be with Snape more than once. She was already aware of this to begin with, but having the potion in her possession only made it all the more real. This was really happening, and Hermione felt slightly anxious and ill to the stomach. What was to become of her?

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**Hey guys, I hope that you liked this update and that you want to keep reading. I'm noticing a lot of story alerts and favorites which I am very grateful for, but if you could take the extra second to review, that would make me so happy! Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you keep up with the story!**


	7. Chapter 7

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Hermione woke up the next morning feeling utterly thankful that she would not be getting married that night. However, the feelings of skepticism and dread still resided in the pit of her stomach. After all, even if she would not be getting married this upcoming night, Sunday night was not much better. In fact, she could really go for having no wedding at all, but unfortunately for her, and many other girls like her, that was not an option.

Suddenly, she heard an incessant pecking coming from the opposite side of her dorm room. When she realized that neither Lavender nor Parvati were present, she sighed heavily and rose from her bed. Dragging her feet heavily on the carpeted floor, she made her way to the large window and threw it open, allowing access to the school mandated barn owl that had been begging for entrance.

As Hermione had suspected, there was a small scroll tied to the owl's leg with a sheer gold lace. Hermione furrowed her brows as she pulled the scroll loose from its bindings and unrolled it. The owl began to flap around her unnervingly, clearly asking for its payment.

Throwing her hand up, she swatted the owl away from her immediate vicinity. "Would you wait for just one moment," she snapped, not looking at the owl as she walked over to and crouched down on the floor beside her chest and began to open it.

As she was opening her chest, she began to read the scroll. What she read made her collapse onto her bottom on the floor and cover her mouth with her now trembling hand.

_Hermione Granger,_

_You have been cordially invited to the wedding and binding of lives of Hannah Abbott and Vincent Crabbe Sr. The nuptials will take place in Nottingham on September the Twentieth. A portkey will be sent to you, should you choose to attend. _

_Yours Truly,_

_Hannah Abbott and Vincent Crabbe Sr._

Hermione sat in her place for a long moment, stunned into silence. She just could not believe this was happening anymore. All her thoughts moved from herself to Hannah, all her worries and fears going to the girl who would suffer more pain that she would. Granted, Hermione did not know Vincent Crabbe Sr. but she did know his son, and that the man himself is a Death Eater and surely that was enough.

She was brought back to consciousness by a rough and bothered peck in the head. Clearly the owl did not understand the anguish that she was feeling. Wiping an angry tear from her eye, Hermione shot daggers at the bird before receiving her coin purse from her chest. "There. Now shoo, go… elsewhere," she shooed as soon as she placed a galleon and two knuts in the birds bag. Now pleased, the owl flew out the window from which it came, leaving Hermione to shut it in disbelief.

Tossing the cursed paper on her bed, Hermione turned her back and ran her hands through her hand anxiously as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind all along that other girls would be suffering the consequences of the act, but now after receiving the invitation from her fellow muggle-born classmate, it became far more real than Hermione had imagined.

Swiftly turning on her heel, Hermione snatched the invitation off of her bed and exited the seventh year girls' dorm with intent. She left with so much intent that she had absolutely forgotten that she was still in her night clothes, slippers and all.

* * *

Hermione ignored the stares and giggles as she marched out of the Common Room and through the half empty corridors of the god forsaken castle. Her jaw was set forward and her knuckles were white as they clenched tightly, her fingernails cutting into her palms almost painfully. The scroll in her hand was crumbled almost completely into a ball. She didn't care one bit for it.

Finally, she reached her destination. There she stood, before the large gargoyle statue, its eagle like eyes staring her down. Hermione inhaled deeply and then said, "Cherry Truffle," hoping that she would be granted access. Unfortunately for her, this was not the case.

Fuming inside, Hermione audibly growled at the stone beast. Had Dumbledore changed the password simply because she knew about it? Did he not want her to visit his office with _inconvenient _questions and purposes? Or was he really just that paranoid that someone was out to kill him.

"Oh, you wretched beast!" she growled from behind clenched teeth. "I have very important business to attend to with the headmaster. Let me in!" she demanded as she kicked at the base of the statue, hoping it would sense her distress and let her in. She had no such luck.

Huffing out an angry and resigned breath, Hermione turned her back to the brute and slid to the floor, her back leaning against the base. "Oh, this couldn't possibly get any worse," she groaned as she rested her head against her knee.

"I could name a number of ways that this situation could, indeed, get worse," a voice came from above her. Hermione looked up to see Professor Snape standing a good eight feet away from her, looking down at her person with appraisal. "I must say, Miss Granger, that this position I find you in is very unbecoming of your person. Do have some self-respect and quit your pathetic sniveling," he languidly sliced as he clasped his hands behind his back.

Suddenly feeling inferior, Hermione rose to her feet with a blush graced upon her cheeks. She was not, however, deterred from her ire. Clenching both her jaw and her fists, Hermione took a step closer to the gaunt man. "I do have self-respect, Professor, and a lot of it, at that. You simply caught me at a poor time. I've just received this via barn owl, you see," she snapped as she held out the crumbled piece of paper to him, her hand still trembling. "I was hoping to see Professor Dumbledore today concerning the contents of that note, but apparently he's not accepting guests," she spat. When Professor Snape merely glared at her extended hand with a cocked eyebrow but didn't take the scroll inside it, she shook her hand. "Well? Take it!"

Snape rolled his eyes and carefully plucked the crumbled parchment from her clenched fingers, careful not to make skin to skin contact with her. When the invitation was in his possession, he straightened out the edges and began to read it. Hermione took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest, attempting, at the same time, to gauge his reaction.

Snape merely sighed and handed it back to her with a shake of his head. "Something like this was bound to happen eventually. I'm not surprised in the least," he told her. Now he looked at her with furrowed brows before twisting his face into a demented smirk. Hermione took the paper and looked back at him confusedly.

"What?" she asked as she unconsciously took a step away from the wizard.

He snorted. "What lovely attire you have on, Granger," he purred mockingly. "If I didn't feel like a filthy lecher before, then I certainly feel like one now," he said lowly with a scowl as he averted his eyes.

Hermione was suddenly aware of her state of dress and she blushed. She was wearing a floor length night dress, covered in light pink polka dots and garnished with ruffles at the sleeves and hem. She also wore matching pink slippers. She blushed looked down. Clearing her throat, she quietly said, "Yes, well I was in a hurry."

"Hm, yes. I see as much." Snape pushed past her to stand in front of the gargoyle. Looking back to her, he sighed. "Well, beside that point, I'm relieved that you're here already. I was going to fetch you at breakfast, but you were not present. You and I need to meet with the headmaster. I suggest you keep your mouth shut about that invitation."

Hermione's face crunched in ire. "Yes, well I suggest you keep your mouth shut, period," she said lowly to herself.

Snape's head twisted around to face her, a scowl etched deep onto his face. "What was that?" he growled dangerously.

"Nothing, sir," she said sweetly.

His nostrils flared but he nodded all the same. "As I thought."

He uttered the password and gestured for her to go first.

* * *

As they entered Dumbledore's extravagantly adorned office, Hermione was already rushing to the headmaster's desk with the invitation in hand. She did not rush through the schools corridors in her night clothes for nothing. Before Snape could do anything to stop her, Hermione had slammed the small paper onto his desk and took a seat across from him.

"Mind explaining that to me, Professor?" she asked heatedly, gesturing to the parchment on the desk.

Dumbledore simply stared at the girl across from him with wide eyes before looking to the dark professor that had accompanied her. Snape shrugged as he shook his head, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Did he honestly think the girl would heed his warning? No, of course he didn't, but it was worth a try.

Finally, Dumbledore looked to the note and gingerly reached out and pulled it toward himself. He quickly scanned it before looking back to Hermione with a questioning look. "It's a wedding invitation," he stated.

Hermione scoffed and looked to him incredulously. "Yes, I know that, sir. Do you notice anything else about it?" she prompted patronizingly, receiving a glare from the headmaster in return.

Without looking back at the invitation, he replied, "It's between Miss Abbott and Mr. Crabbe, the senior. Anything else you'd like to add?" He looked at her from behind his spectacles as if daring her to proceed.

She accepted the dare. Shooting up from her seat, Hermione approached the desk and placed her hands on the surface. "Anything else? What more is there to say? There is a seventeen year old student at your institution that is being sold off as a forty something year olds bride!" She removed herself from the desk and began pacing in front of the headmaster.

Dumbledore shut his eyes and took in a deep, frustrated breath. "I am aware of the situation, Miss Granger. This is what the act entails, as I'm sure you're aware. Obviously no one else petitioned for Miss Abbott, or perhaps she felt pressured into consenting to it. Whatever the case, there is nothing that could be done now, I'm afraid."

Hermione scoffed and stopped her pacing to stare down the headmaster. "Afraid? You're not afraid, not at all. Hannah Abbott? Yes, she's afraid. Me? Yes, I'm afraid. Hundreds of other girls? Yes, they're afraid. But you? Oh, you, sir, are not afraid. You're spared from all this and get to watch from the sidelines. How I wish I were you right now," she spat bitterly and continued her pacing.

Dumbledore had had it. Jumping up from his seat, he slammed his palms down heavily on his desk. "Enough!" he shouted, causing both Hermione and Snape to look at the man in shock. "You will remember your place with me, young lady. And you," he turned to look at Snape, "will stop with your poor, self-pitied attitude." Dumbledore looked back to Hermione with narrowed eyes. "Have I not done enough for you, child? Are you, also, not spared?"

Hermione shook her head. "Only by choosing the lesser of the two evils. I'd hardly call that spared," she said with a low laugh. "And you've done plenty for me, and for that I am grateful, but what of the others? The other students at risk, I mean. Am I only to be saved from some despicable fate because of what I mean to Harry? Because of my brains? Is that something I could live with?" she asked, her eyes shifting from Dumbledore to Snape, and then slowly back to Dumbledore. "Is that something you can live with?"

Albus Dumbledore looked resigned as he took off his glasses and slumped into his plush chair. "Have a seat. Both of you," he ordered dully. Both of them complied and sat silently, waiting for the man to continue. "To answer your question, Miss Granger, I can only live with it as long as I see that my choices do the world good. Sparing you will help save our world, Miss Granger. Saving the others instead of you would not end well for you, for Harry, for the Order and certainly not for the good of our world," he answered wisely as he shifted his eyes from her person to Snape's. "And you, my boy, have got to cease making the world miserable around you. I assure you that this marriage, this binding between the two of you will end well for you both. Place your trust in me," he assured them dually.

Hermione sighed and clenched her eyes shut. "I'm just so livid with this entire ordeal, sir. Forgive my forwardness," she asked quietly as she lifted her eyes to the bearded wizard before her.

He offered her a smile and nodded. "You are forgiven, Miss Granger. But do remember what I have said to you before," he reminded her with raised brows.

Hermione blushed, but nodded. "Yes. That will have to take some getting used to, sir. You see, I am very outwardly emotional when it comes to things like this," she admitted with a small grin.

Snape snorted and dragged the room's attention to himself. "Yes, you wear you're bloody heart on your sleeve. It's nothing new, ask any house elf," he said with the shake of his head.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said back in her chair. "So, sir," she said addressing Snape, "you wanted me here for this meeting?"

"The word 'want' would imply a desire to be around you. 'Need,' however, is a far more appropriate word," he corrected with a sneer. "However, you are correct. I've been told that this ordeal is a lot for you to carry on your shoulders alone. That being said, I am granting you the opportunity to inform one cohort of yours about our… upcoming nuptials," he said with a sneer still imprinted on his face.

Hermione broke out into a smile. "Really? Any one of my friends?" she questioned for confirmation. Her eyes travelled to Dumbledore. "Sir?"

Dumbledore offered her a tired smile. "Yes. But if I may suggest just one friend, I would not include Harry or Mr. Weasley. I'm sure you understand why that must be," he told her.

She nodded, still overjoyed at this little allowance. "Yes, of course. I know just who to tell," she said as she squirmed in her seat.

Noting her excitement, Snape waved his hand. "Go on, Granger. Find Miss Weasley and inform her of the situation. If it seems that she cannot handle the news, Obliviate her at once, are we clear?"

Hermione nodded and rose from her seat. "Yes, sir." She did not even question how he knew she would be telling Ginny before she was headed to the door.

"Oh, and Miss Granger?" Dumbledore called with a grin on his face.

Hermione turned to look at him with a cocked eyebrow. "Yes, sir?"

"I have a night set just like that."

Hermione simply blushed as she ran from the office to Gryffindor Tower, intent on changing her outfit and finding one Ginny Weasley.

* * *

After returning to her dorm and getting changed into a pair of muggle jeans and a jumper, she waited in the Common Room for the crew to head back from the Quidditch Pitch. She recalled that they were going out today for trials, but she was too tired and too excited to drag herself out there.

The Portrait hole finally opened and in came Harry, Ron, and Ginny along with a handful of other haggard looking Gryffindors. Well, far more than a handful, actually. In fact, it seemed the entire house had been trying out for the team. Hermione's stomach tightened as Ginny came and dropped down beside her.

"I can't possibly do this all again on Tuesday. I'm sorer than a race hippogriff," Ron said as he laid face down on the plush red sofa across from the fire.

"Oh, shut it, Ronald," Ginny said as she threw a gold throw pillow at him. "It wasn't that bad and all you had to do was wait at the goal posts. Barely any flying for you!"

Ron sat up and looked at Ginny, a deeply offended look donning his face. He threw the pillow back at her, but she easily caught it in one hand. "Hey! Keeper is the hardest position on the field, ask anyone!"

Harry joined in with a snort. "And ask any Beater and he'll say that his position is the hardest. Honestly, I think Seeker is the hardest but I may be biased," he said with a shrug. Harry groaned and looked at Hermione. "There had to be the entire house at trials, not to mention the sneak ins from other houses. Dreadful, Hermione. How was your morning, by the way? You weren't at breakfast ," he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Hermione smiled and shot to her feet as she tugged at Ginny's arm. "Oh, you know. I slept in. After detention I was absolutely knackered," she said. "Let's go, Ginny. Remember I promised to help you on that Potions essay you had due on Monday?"

Ginny gave her a confused look and was about to deny it before she noticed the pleading look on her friends face. She swallowed back her answer and nodded. "Yea. Yea, let's go. I don't want to work on it tomorrow."

The two girls made their way up to the seventh year dorm and shut and warded the door.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Ginny asked as she sat next to the bushy haired girl on the bed.

Hermione wrung her hands and bit her lip. "Look, this is a really big secret, all right? You have to promise me right now that you won't tell anyone and that you won't freak out, okay?"

Ginny gave Hermione a skeptical look. "What is it?" she asked as she cocked her head.

"Promise," Hermione demanding, refusing to say anything before Ginny swore to it.

The redhead nodded and scooted closer to her friend. "I promise. Now, what is it?"

Inhaling deeply, Hermione began to explain everything that had transpired in the past few days, including her detentions, the letter, the meetings with Dumbledore, and finally, perhaps the most important bit, her soon to be husband.

Ginny sat there, her mouth agape. Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears as she pulled Hermione toward her for a bone crushing hug. "Oh, Hermione, this is horrible," she muttered as tears ran down her cheeks.

Hermione could not find it in herself to cry. She remembered Hannah's situation and pulled away from Ginny. "It's really not that bad, actually, considering what could have been. There are some people, in fact most people, who are not so lucky. I am very grateful for this. Well, not for the act, but for what Professor Snape is doing for me," she said.

Ginny wiped her eyes and nodded. "I'm glad you're okay with it, then."

Hermione shook her head and snorted. "Don't mistake my thankfulness for acceptance, Ginny. I'm not okay with it, but I will deal with it with my head held high."

"So, the wedding is tomorrow?"

Hermione nodded.

"And you want my help buying you something to wear?"

Hermione furrowed her brows. "I really do not recall ever saying anything of that sort, Ginny."

The redhead laughed. "No, you didn't, but wedding to Snape or not, you need to be dressed at least halfway decent. We can ask McGonagall if she'll allow us to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, just you and me, and find something nice. It doesn't have to be fancy, but I'm sure it would help Snape feel better if you weren't getting married to him in your school robes."

Hermione grimaced but nodded. "You're right. Okay, so tomorrow in the morning, you and I will go to Professor McGonagall and get this all sorted out."

Ginny smiled and nodded. "Sounds wonderful."

"And Ginny?" Hermione said as she wrung her hands in her lap.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for… not freaking out and making me have to Obliviate you," she said with a small smile.

Ginny laughed and pulled her in for a tight hug. "What are friends for?"

* * *

**That was the latest installment, and I hoped you all enjoyed it! Next chapter we see Hermione and Ginny in Hogsmeade and after that we finally get to see the wedding. It all goes downhill from there. In a good way, I swear! Well, if you liked it, please let me know! Review with comments, questions, concerns, and praise, if you enjoyed it! Thank you and see you soon!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yay! Over 100 reviews and still going! I'm so glad you all like this, I really am! Well, here is the next chapter. Finally, right? Haha, let me know how you feel in the reviews!**

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Hermione and Ginny stood together in the Entrance Hall as they patiently waited for Professor McGonagall to come and escort them safely off school grounds. When the two girls had asked the elder witch allow them to go to Hogsmeade, she had obviously wanted a logical reason. Seeing as the professor already knew about the act, Hermione told her that she needed a new set of robes for her wedding. Immediately, Professor McGonagall's exterior softened and she told them to meet her by the school doors half past noon.

Hermione was pacing back and forth as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "I'm not sure if this is such a great idea anymore, Ginny. A number of unpleasant ordeals could play out while we're off school grounds," she worried as she stopped her pacing and looked back to the redheaded girl beside her. "What if Harry comes looking for us? Oh, what am I saying, of course he'll come looking for us. That's just something Harry is bound to do. And what about when we get back and they bombard us with their inquiries, which is just inevitable at this point. Perhaps I should just charm my school robes into something nicer."

Ginny rolled her eyes as she approached Hermione and grabbed her arm gently. "That would be tasteless, Hermione, and you know it," she said as she looked the girl in her doe brown eyes. "And I'm sure the two of us can come up with something clever to tell the boys. It really won't take much to get them off our back," she assured her with a small smile.

Hermione snorted. "Yes, well that's not the only thing that I'm concerned about. What if we're attacked in Hogsmeade? Death Eaters can be anyone and anywhere these days. You can't trust too many people anymore, Ginny," she rationalized. "I really think we should call this off. Tasteless or not, charming my robe is obviously the safer option. Aside from that I don't want him to think I have any delusions concerning our bogus marriage, which he obviously will think when he sees me in a nice, new set of robes!" she panicked as she moved away from Ginny and began pacing again. "This is just a disaster."

Ginny sighed and walked away from Hermione towards the large, two-story double doors that led to the castles lawn. "Stop," she commanded firmly as she crossed her arms sternly over her chest. Hermione immediately ceased her movements and looked over to Ginny with confusion etched onto her face. "You're only making this worse for yourself, Hermione. This will only be a disaster if you make it one, all right? So stop this. Also, what do you care what that greasy git thinks? So what if he thinks you're into the marriage, which I doubt that he will. You just need to take a breath and calm down. It's going to be all right," she said as she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, setting the motion for Hermione.

Instead of heeding Ginny's breathing, Hermione scowled and looked away. "I wish everyone would stop making light of this situation," she spat quietly as she crossed her arms.

The redhead stopped her exaggerated breathing and furrowed her eyebrows. "What?" she questioned as she pushed away from the door and slowly walked over to her friend.

Just as she was about to place her hand on Hermione's arm, the bushy haired girl slapped her hand away and faced her. Ginny was too shocked to react. "Making this whole… this whole _mess_ seem way less serious than it is! I'm getting married to a man who is nearly twice my age, Ginny! In fact, he may be older than twice my age," she said as she clenched her jaw. "And all you, or anyone, care about is that I keep calm. Look, I get it, all right? I know I need to keep calm but it's getting so hard bottling everything up and I'm just bound to explode! I have every right to be upset, but you people make it seem like it's a crime for me to show some emotion!" Hermione grabbed at her hair tightly and let out a frustrated scream. "As- As if I can control it myself! This was all thrown onto me in less than a week and I'm expected to be perfectly normal? Absolute insanity."

"Hermione…" Ginny tentatively reached her hand out to Hermione, but pulled it back on second thought. She didn't want to set her off more than she already was. To be quite frank, Ginny was scared; not that her friend would hurt her, but that her normally composed pal was losing it. "I understand what it must feel like, okay, but it will get easier."

Hermione bit out a sharp laugh. "You know nothing," she snapped. "That's another thing about you people. You act like you know how this feels when you haven't the slightest damn clue. And to top it off, you're patronizing! As if I'm some child throwing a tantrum because I lost my teddy. It's not only insulting, but infuriating on top of that."

Ginny shook her head and sighed. "I assume the others you're speaking of are Snape and Dumbledore, no?"

Hermione stopped her rant and looked to her friend, who, despite all her berating, was looking calm and understanding. Hermione deflated and nodded. "Yes."

Slowly, Ginny reached out and pulled Hermione to her in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Ginny. I didn't mean to explode on you, it's just that I've been so stressed and I really don't want to leave the castle."

"Shhh," Ginny hushed as she patted her friend on the head lightly. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry for making you feel obligated to yell at me."

"And what is the meaning of this?" Professor McGonagall's voice came piercing through the air, cutting the tension like a knife.

Hermione and Ginny broke apart and look to the woman with equally solemn expressions. McGonagall's small smirk dropped as she hurried over to the pair. "Oh, dear," she said as she ran her hand over Hermione's head. "I know, it's so much to handle. Too much, in fact. But you are strong and, despite all the hardships, you will persist to do great things, child. It will all be for the best. For now, I say a little mourning is in order, as I can only imagine what you must be going through."

Hermione sighed and nodded. "Thank you, Professor," she said with a small, fabricated smile. "I'm sorry to have dragged you here for nothing, but I don't think we'll be going to Hogsmeade after all."

Ginny snapped her head towards Hermione. "But-"

"Well I'm glad you came to that decision by yourself, Miss Granger, as I would have hated to be the bearer of bad news," she said as she adjusted her glasses upon her straight nose. "When I spoke to Professor Snape about sending the two of you to Hogsmeade, he immediately disallowed it. He said it would be too dangerous and a foolish waste of time to send you shopping in times like these."

Hermione flushed in embarrassment as she realized that Professor Snape must know what it was she was planning to purchase. She cleared her throat and nodded. "Well, I'm glad we're on equal terms, then," she said. "Thank you for this, Professor. For your time, I mean."

Professor McGonagall offered a sad smile in return with a slight nod of her head. "It's no trouble at all."

Without another word, Hermione began walking away from her friend and Professor, as she rubbed her temples with her index finger and thumb. She still had time before the wedding and she wanted to be by herself.

* * *

Before she even knew where she was heading, Hermione had found herself in the Room of Requirement. Perhaps it was her subconscious that drove her here, telling her that she not only wanted to be alone, but needed to be alone, and this room was the only place in the castle that could guarantee her solitude.

As she stepped inside the large, unknowing room, she was amazed at what she saw before her eyes. The room had wood floors, polished pine, to be exact, and light purple walls. Across from the door was a floor to ceiling white book case, filled with all of her favorites. There was also a desk with note books and pens, and across from the desk was a bed with white and black paisley print. Hermione's heart warmed. It was her bedroom.

The Room of Requirement had replicated her room down to the very last detail; a scratch on the wood beneath the purple rug from when she wore her new roller blades in the house one Christmas; the order of her books on her shelf; and the little tear on her duvet at the corner from when it got caught under her new rolling desk chair.

She wanted to cry; almost did, actually, but refrained. While she was beyond glad at being brought home in a sense through this odd form of nostalgia, she was reminded that this room represented her childhood, everything she was and wanted to be, and it was over. She would not be a child after tonight and the thought of being in the room after this day made her feel ill.

However she felt about the room, she contently sighed as she plucked _Jane Eyre_ off her shelf and plopped down on her bed and began reading. Outside the charmed window, it was snowing in her families back garden, and the trees were bare of leaves, but full of life. She was content and calmed.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Hermione, she had been in the room for a little over seven hours, relishing in the warmth and nostalgia of it all. As she was about to close to book for the seemingly hundredth time, she heard a pecking at her window. Looking over to the glass, she was surprised to see a school appointed, brown barn owl hovering on the other side. She did not know that owls could use these fabricated windows as portals to the room. Well, you learn something new every day, especially at Hogwarts.

As she heaved the window open with a strong upward thrust, the frantic animal poured into the purple room and fluttered about her face. He had a scroll tied to his leg; for Hermione, this could only mean one thing: the wedding was happening now. With shaky hands and nerves, Hermione pulled the scroll from the owl's leg and tossed it on the bed she had previously occupied. As she moved to pay the owl, she noted that bird had already flown coop and left. Odd, she thought with furrowed brows. Perhaps someone already paid her fee.

Inhaling deeply, she grabbed the scroll and unrolled it. Just as she had suspected, her eyes were meet by the spiky penmanship of her soon-to-be husband:

_Now in the Headmaster's office would be optimal. I'll give you ten minutes before I send a search party. The password is Sugar Quills._

_SS_

Hermione dropped the scroll and suddenly panicked. She did not have anything to wear, and her charm work under this pressure would be shoddy at best. She ran to her dresser and pulled the top drawer open.

A smile formed on her lips. "You really are the Room of Requirement, aren't you?" she whispered to the room as she pulled out a long, floor length red and black robe. She sighed. "Let's get this over with," she encouraged herself as she changed into her robes.

* * *

Dressed in her finest new robes, Hermione stood in front of the stone gargoyle for the third time in just seven short lived days. She had not even been to this office three times in all her seven years, yet in seven days she increased her visits tenfold. She exhaled deeply and steeled herself for what was to come.

"Sugar Quills," she commanded quietly as her eyes flickered to her left and right. With a loud, creaking twist, the beast moved to reveal the ever present spiral staircase that led to not only the Headmaster's office, but also to her soon to be wedding chapel.

Finally, she stood before the large wooden doors to his office, a sweat forming on her brow and her heart slowly increasing its pace in her chest. She knew she would not circumvent the situation any longer. She had to face it like the woman that she knew she was, even if everyone else regarded her as s child. She confidently opened the door and entered the heavily decorated office of one Albus Dumbledore.

Upon her entrance, the old headmaster smiled at her excited and motioned for her to come in further and shut the door behind her; she did as he said and walked towards his desk. Almost immediately, her eyes found Severus Snape's. She also noted that his eyes avoided her person like the plague. Her nose twitched in annoyance.

She also noticed that he did not bother changing out of his normal attire. He wore the same black set of robes and button up coat as he did when he was teaching and she felt wrath build up inside her. He could at least offer some sort of effort. How would he feel if she strolled in the room in her Hogwarts issued uniform robes? She knew that would not go over well. Even so, she felt like the odd one out wearing nice, new robes while the other two occupants of the room were dressed so casually. She held back her flush.

"So this is it, yes?" Dumbledore said as he rounded his desk and walked past the pair to the center of the room. There was an empty area in the room that she had not noted before; all that was there was a round red and gold rug, cut from the finest threads and fabrics.

"It would appear so, Albus. Let's not beat around the bush and just get this over with, shall we?" Snape responded as he turned to face the silver-bearded man with a scowl. His eyes found hers and narrowed. He let out a huff and stepped away from her and headed towards the carpet. Hermione fumed, but relented the urge to snap at the man.

"Miss Granger, if you would join us we could begin the process," Dumbledore said as he pulled out his wand and looked at her with an assuming expression.

Hermione sighed and joined the two men on the fine carpet, she and Snape were on either side of Dumbledore avoiding each other's eye.

"And the sooner we begin, the sooner this is all over with," Hermione said as she looked to her headmaster and shook her head.

Snape snorted. "An eternity with you will not be over with soon, of that I'm sure," he snapped sarcastically.

Hermione growled and bit back a retort. "Shall we begin, sir?" she asked Dumbledore, looking at the man with pleading eyes.

He nodded and held out one arm. "Roll up your left sleeves," he ordered. Hermione did so, but she noticed Snape's obvious reluctance to obey the man. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Both of you," he said in a voice that allowed no argument.

Snape rolled his eyes and looked away almost shamefully as she unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to his elbow, revealing the vile tattoo that was carved into his skin. Hermione barely contained her gasp. "You knew what was going to be there, don't overreact, you petulant ninny," Snape growled as he stared her down.

Hermione sneered at him. "I knew it was there, yes, but I didn't know it'd be so vile."

Snape's face contorted in anger, but Dumbledore stopped him from replying. "Please, children, let's not fight tonight." He tucked his wand underneath his arm as he took hold of the two soon-to-be spouses' forearms with his cold hands. Hermione inhaled sharply as he made her and grab Snape's forearm and his hand grab hers. Slowly they curled their fingers around each other. Dumbledore released his grip with a smile, and Hermione clenched her stomach and held her breath at his touch. She didn't know how to react.

"Good. Now turn your arms like so," Dumbledore said as he position their arms so that his arm was atop hers. "Don't move, either of you. If you move or speak during this then the bind will be broken."

Hermione held her breath and attempted to catch her dark professor's eyes, but he avoided her gaze at all costs. She just needed to know that she wasn't alone in this frightening moment. Sadly for her, it seemed that she was alone.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and shut his eyes as he began waving his wand over their connected limbs and muttering an incantation in Latin. She'd never heard the tune before. She noted then that the elderly wizard was singing lightly. Feeling resigned, she shut her eyes and exhaled calmingly. She knew it would all be okay in the end, deep down, but right now she was fearing for her life.

As she peeked her eyes opening, she saw five electric bands wrapping in spirals around their arms, all in different colors, shades, and widths. Finally, Dumbledore brought his wand down to touch their arms and Hermione was shocked. Literally. She let out a yelp and leapt back; Snape kept a strong grip on her arm.

She looked wide eyed at both professors. Dumbledore laughed heartily. "Oh, my apologies, Miss Granger! I forgot to warn you about the spell. It's a bit of a zinger, if you ask me," he said with a smile. "And now, for the final part, the two partners must seal the bond with a kiss."

Hermione gulped and turned her eyes to Snape's. For the first time, his eyes connected with hers, but only briefly as he swooped in a lightly pressed his lips against hers for a sweet and quick kiss. Hermione was left shocked as he released her arm and stepped back.

"That's it?" she asked as she looked from Snape to Dumbledore.

Snape scowled. "Almost. There is still one last component, and I'll be damned if we have the old man with us to watch," he said with a leer and Hermione's stomach lurched. She'd almost forgotten, most likely repressed that fact that they had to consummate the marriage.

She nodded. "Yes." She gulped. "That spell you used, sir, it reminded me of one I read of not too long ago," she began. "The Unbreakable Vow, I believe?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Stop trying to buy time, Granger. No point in saving yourself now," he said darkly as he grabbed her arm and tossed a pinch of floo powder in the fireplace. "You can ask all the questions you want later, but I will not be wasting any more of my time on this nonsense."

Hermione felt her stomach clench as he pulled her through the fire. She could only imagine what was waiting for her on the other side. She suddenly did not feel so brave anymore.

* * *

**Hate to cut it there, but I just had to. Got to add some suspense somehow, am I right? Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed and please feel free to leave some feedback! Review with comments, questions, concerns, and praise, if you did enjoy! See you all soon!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow, a lot of feedback for the last chapter! I am so thankful for your thoughts and comments, and am immensely glad that you guys are pleased with this story! I hope that you continue to enjoy it, and also continue to tell me so! Well, here we go with the next update; the one that I am sure you have all been waiting for, you dirty people.**

* * *

As they stepped out of the fire place, Snape's hand fell from Hermione's arm as he wiped his black robes clean of ash. Hermione coughed lightly as she did the same. Her eyes roamed around the room, taking in observations and calculations as they passed by. While Hermione had not taken much time to think about her professor's private quarters, she definitely had not been expecting them to be so… well, to be quite so warm.

The floor was dark stone, smooth and clean beneath her feet, and in the center of the room was a deep green, almost emerald, rug with silver and platinum fringe. The walls were stone as well, though lighter than the floor, and had beautiful tapestries resting upon them. The room was well lit by both candles and what she assumed to be charms and allowed for the bookcase to shine a light mahogany color.

She sighed as she hesitantly approached the black leather couch that sat opposite the glass and dark wood coffee table. She slowly sat down. She noticed just then that Snape had left the room and was out of sight. Her stomach clenched as she wondered if he wanted her to follow him. She worried that he'd want to simply get the deed done without a word and send her on her way. She shuddered and began contemplating whether or not to find him when he reentered the room, still fully clothed, with two mugs of steaming liquid in his hands.

Hermione looked at him nervously as he heaved a sigh. "It's tea, Granger. Black with two sugars. I assumed that'd you'd want something a bit stronger for what is to come so I simply forwent the milk," he said in his typical, instructional style voice. He handed her the hot white mug carefully and moved to sit in the arm chair beside the couch.

Taking the steaming tea, she held it in both hands as she leaned forward and tapped her foot on the ground anxiously. "Thank you," she muttered as she shakily brought the porcelain to her lips and sipped. She cringed at the bitter flavor at first, but then savored the distracting taste. She took another sip, this time much more of a mouthful than the last.

Snape simply observed her nervous actions with a cocked eyebrow as he, too, took a sip from his tea. "I see that you're finally coming to realize the true cost of what you've agreed to," he stated plainly as he crossed one languid leg over the other. He leaned back into the plushness of his arm chair and gauged her reaction.

Hermione looked at him, truly looked at him without any animosity or fear, and shook her head with a sigh. "I knew what I was getting myself into all along, sir." She took a sip of the tea once again before placing it on a coaster atop the coffee table. "However it is not something I can simply force myself to get over, or be truly prepared for. I am not going to lie to you; I am afraid, absolutely. But I am not afraid of you." She shook her head and looked at him, even as he rolled his eyes. "No, I'm serious. I am not afraid of you. You wouldn't hurt me, I know that. You don't want to hurt me," she said.

Snape scoffed. "I've, in fact, contemplated doing just that for over six years now, Granger. Don't delude yourself."

She simply blinked and exhaled heavily. "I'm not deluding myself; I know you don't like me at all, and to be fair, I don't like you. And maybe you've thought about fifty ways to hurt me, but you'd never do it." She looked at him expectantly, waiting for a response. When she didn't receive one, she continued, "Aside from that, I am afraid of what all this will mean. What will change in our lives because of this somewhat rash decision we've made? Will it affect the course of the Order? Will my friends find out and shun me? What will it mean for you and… well, You-Know-Who? I know he already knows about us, and I can tell that he's not happy about it. You needn't lie to me," Hermione finished as she looked at her professor heavily.

The man stared back at her with narrowed eyes. "You think far too much for someone your age," he said with a sigh. "But you are correct. The Dark Lord is anything but pleased with this situation, and I have paid grievously for it, have no doubts." He, too, placed his mug on the coffee table. "But what's done is done. The bonds have been made and as of now, you are my wife," he spat the word acrimoniously with a violent shake of his head. "Neither of us are done paying our retributions, girl, but for now we must put that behind us. Unfortunately we have more… important matters that lie ahead for us," he looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she looked away with a blush.

"Yes, yes. I know that quite well. I wish it didn't have to be this way, sir," she said as she peeked at him from beneath her eyelashes.

Snape grunted as he rose from his chair and held a hand out towards her. "But it must be this way, regrettably, and it must be done soon," he said in a somewhat sympathetic voice, for Snape, that is.

Reluctantly, Hermione placed her shivering hand into his callous one and rose to her feet. With a strong exhale and straightening of her shoulders, she bravely followed him as he led her out of the main room and towards a darkened hallway.

* * *

The room was dark as the pair entered, but with a quick flick of Professor Snape's wand, the bedroom became engulfed in light. Hermione's heart began to beat quicker as her eyes traveled from the green duvet covered bed to the simply dark wood armoire to its right. The room was nothing special, decorated as plainly as the rest of the quarters. She looked over to Snape and waited expectantly.

Much to her surprise, Hermione noticed that for once her professor seemed as lost as she was. She understood that he had as much right to be as nervous and as lost as she had, but it was still disconcerting to know that neither of them would be the leader.

Finally, Snape cleared his throat. "I assume you consumed the potion I gave you earlier this week, yes?" Though voice sounded placid and nonchalant, his face gave away his nerves. She realized then that he'd never been in this situation before; not to say he was a virgin, or anything, but that he just didn't know quite what to do with her. She blushed and nodded slowly.

"Yes, of course."

"Good," he said with a sharp nod. The two stood in silence for a long moment before he spoke up again, "Listen Miss Grange, I want to let you know right now that there will no romanticizing the situation. I don't want to delude you into thinking this is marriage is more than just a way to avoid the true horrors of this law." He looked at her sternly before continuing, "That being said, I believe I am right in saying that you and I both want this to be over as quickly as possible and for that to happen, we should begin now."

Hermione's breath caught and she didn't know what to say. She stammered for a few moments before shutting her mouth and nodded. He nodded back. "Take off your undergarments," he commanded.

Hermione's heartbeat was pounding heavily and soundly in her ears. She blushed as she turned her back to the man and slipped her hands beneath her robe and hooked her fingers beneath the elastic band and slipped the garment down her legs. Once off, she crumpled the cloth and held it in her fist; her face was so red, she imagined she looked like a fool that had forgotten how to breathe.

Clearing his throat, Snape averted his eyes and held his arm out towards the bed. "I want you to lean over the edge, if you will. Your back towards me," he said lowly as he moved his eyes back to her form.

Hesitantly, she complied with his command and placed the front part of her torso onto them bed, her cheek turned to the side as it was caressed by the silky duvet. Her hands were pressed flat on the bed next to her face and her feet were curled on the floor, the knuckles pressed on the cold stone.

And then she waited in silence.

And she continued waiting for a seemingly inappropriate amount of time.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she timidly turned her face back to look at the man behind her, wondering what he was doing but worried about what she might come to face. Luckily, she did not see anything that would scar her for life. She did, however, see the wizard with his wand out, waving it slowly in circles a good two feet above her posterior. She blushed and cleared her throat. "What exactly are you doing?" she questioned quietly as she looked at the man with a confused expression.

He stopped whatever he was doing and looked at the girl before him. He stared down his formidable nose at her as he pocketed his wanted and cleared his throat. "A charm," he answered simply, "to help with the… lubrication, if you will."

"Oh," she said with a deep blush. She wished that she had not asked, as some things are better left unknown. She turned her face away from him and waited.

"If you listen to me just one time, I want it to be this: don't you ever turn around and look at me," he growled as she heard him begin to undo part of his robe.

She gulped and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good," he said as he then moved to undo his belt. She then heard the zipper drop and she clenched her stomach. All this time, her heart had been beating, begging for escape, and it suddenly seemed to stop as she felt him hoist the hem of her robes up over her bottom. Her breathing became nonexistent at the point.

As he placed on large hand to the right of her face to hold himself up, she felt him as he adjusted himself at her entrance. The hard, yet silk soft head of his cock pressing lightly against her. She involuntarily clenched. The bed shifted as he placed his other hand down on the other side of her and he paused. "Relax," he said calmingly, and the soothing quality in his voice assured her that she'd be safe.

The moment she unclenched, she felt him easy into her, the feeling so odd that she scrunched her face, not in pain, but in discomfort and unfamiliarity. There was a bit of pain as she felt her muscles and tissue stretch around him, but as he eased into her slowly, she found it to be bearable. And then, he paused. She sat there and waited for the excruciating pain that she'd both read and heard about many times to come, but as he quickly pushed past her barrier, she merely felt a painful pinch. There was no popping, or snapping, or bursting of any sort. Nothing that she had been expecting at all.

She heard him grunt from behind her as he paused and allowed her to adjust to his girth, and the newness of being filled. As she noted his arm shaking and the tension in his muscles, she nodded slowly and gestured for him to continue. Her face was contorted in slight pain and discomfort as he thrust in and out of her at a rapid pace. A stinging sensation was jolting through her as his movements persisted and she hissed lowly and clutched the duvet.

She was fine until her thrust into her deeper than before. She gasped out and bit the mattress as her muscles constricted around him tightly and a searing pain jolted through her abdomen, leaving her gasping and clenched. While he didn't apologize or speak, she knew he was aware of her pain, for he never ventured that deep into her again, settling for more shallow and slow thrusts.

For her, it felt like an eternity, an embarrassing, never ending eternity of shame and discomfort. What would he think of her after all this? What would Dumbledore, McGonagall, Ginny, and everyone else who knew about their marriage think of her? She shut her eyes and went limp.

Snape's thrusts became frantic and out of rhythm and she knew that he'd be done soon, and she'd be able to leave with her chin held high, if not with her dignity. In one last thrust, he released into her, his wet, hot seed spilling into her as he began to go limp. Even in his tired state, he kept himself held above her, not daring to collapse, obviously reluctant to touch her more than necessary.

Without waiting another second, he quickly pulled out of her and began to adjust himself, leaving her lying face down on the bed with a pair of old blue panties clenched in her fist. As she heard him buckles his belt, she reached over and pulled her robe down to cover herself as she sat up and looked at him.

He cleared his throat and straightened his back. Hermione searched his face for any sign of the act they'd committed, but saw nothing but a blank sheet. She moved her eyes to her feet as she shakily rose from the bed, her abdomen crying in soreness as she stood there. "I think it would be best if you left now, Miss Granger. Lest your friends begin to worry for your well-being. You have, after all, been out all day. Surely they're missing you," he said snappishly, though the sincerity in his tone was questionable.

Hermione nodded and wiped her hand over sticky left cheek; it had begun to perspire over the course of their binding, but she did not dare to move her head. "Yes, sir. Shall I use the floo?" she asked, still avoiding his eyes.

Snape scoffed. "It's hardly eight o'clock, Granger. I'm sure you'd face a lot of inquiry if you arrived through the fireplace as opposed to the portrait hole," he said with a snort. "Aside from that, you look like you need to take a walk and fix yourself up. You look absolutely dreadful."

Hermione snorted and shook her head. She could only imagine what she looked like. "Well… I guess I'll show myself out," she said awkwardly as she moved with a slight limp to pass by him.

Snape rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm in one large hand. "Don't be absurd, child." She wondered how he could still call her that after all that had transpired. "Allow me to escort you out of the dungeons."

Surprised at the out of character offer, Hermione looked up to him with semi-widened eyes and nodded. "I'd like that, sir," she said, "However, I'd like it a tad bit more if you'd not drag me out of the dungeons." Her eyes flickered over to his hand on her arm and then back up to his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Snape released her and began to head out of the room. Hermione stood there, shocked at the entire ordeal, seemingly unable to move. Snape turned around and looked at the girl with a cocked eyebrow. "Are you planning to join me, or are you simply trying to trick me into leaving my quarters so that you can have at it with my books?" he drawled.

Hermione jumped and looked at him before nodding. "Yes, sir. I was just… distracted, I suppose. I'm sorry," she said as she walked over to him.

He rolled his eyes as he motioned for her to exit the room before him. "You are an odd girl, Miss Granger," he muttered as he shut the door behind him and entered the main room behind her.

Hermione merely looked back at him with a small sad smile. "I know," she said.

The two stood awkwardly together for a moment in silence before Snape spoke up, "Well, after you," he said mockingly as he moved to the door and held I open for her. "Ladies first," he derided with a sneer, though Hermione could tell that there was something missing to it.

She simply smiled and exited the rooms. "Oh, by all means."

As the door clicked behind Snape, the two of them made to leave the dungeons together, both unaware of the sneaky eyes that had watched them in secret.

* * *

**I just want to point out that Snape will not be a softy from here on out, okay? He's still going to be snarky and rude and his overall self. Aside from that, what did you all think? This was my first "smutty" writing, for real. It's not the best I could do, I'm saving that for later, but for their first time I think I did pretty well. Let me know how you feel and what you think in the review section. Feedback is, after all, key. Leave questions, comments, concerns, and especially praise in the reviews! I read them all and they motivate me to continue with this! Love you!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Really sorry for the wait; I'm just squeezing in an update now. I'm working on my senior research paper and an AP Government project as we speak and I have been really stressed lately. I have certainly not forgotten about you lovely people! Well, I hope you enjoy what I've got for you!**

* * *

Hermione woke up on her own accord the next morning; there was no sunlight or alarm to rouse her, much like she was used to. Obviously her currents had been closed during the night. Sitting up in bed, she felt a hot sensation shoot through her body and grimaced in sore pain. Her memories from last night flooded into her brain, though she had certainly not forgotten. A flush crept its way onto her cheeks, but she quickly shook it off.

Opening her current and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Hermione was sure to be quite as she made her way over to her trunk and pulled out her school uniform and robes. Hesitantly, and somewhat nervously, she stripped off her robes from last night and hastily changed. Both Parvati and Lavender seemed to just begin stirring in their sleep as she straightened out her black robes.

Moving to the vanity, she hurriedly brushed out her knotted hair and moved on to grab her school books off of the top of her trunk before she headed out the door.

By the time Hermione reached the Common Room, she contently noted that no one else occupied the room, indicating her early awakening. Good, she thought. The earlier the better; the more time she would have to mentally compose herself. She would be total calm and collect and no one who didn't know her situation would question it.

Once Hermione moved off the bottom step of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory, she approached the center of the room and dropped her books to the table with a 'thump.' With a contented sigh, she heaved her sore body onto a plush red love seat, enjoying the peace and heat of the fire. If only this harmony could last forever.

Despite her wishes, it did not last even an hour.

In about a half an hour, the Common Room was filled with bustling Gryffindors of all years. Out of the morning madness, she was able to hear Harry's voice as he trotted down the stairs, "Hermione!"

Her head shot up and her posture straightened with a jolt of slight pain; actually, she would rather call it soreness, as it didn't sting, but simply brought her mind back to the matters at hand. "Morning, Harry," she said, smiling subtly up at him. "Where's Ron?"

Harry shrugged and plopped down in the empty seat next to her. "Always an issue getting up on Mondays with him," he said with a snort. Hermione nodded but didn't say anything as she turned her gaze to the fire, her eyes glazed over somewhat as she contemplated what she should say. If she were being honest, she would like to say nothing at all; she didn't want any attention brought to herself that was not exactly necessary.

Harry opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then shut it and moved his gaze over to the fire as well. For a few moments, they sat there in silence, only the sounds of their milling housemates occupied the air and cut away the tension. Finally, though, Harry broke the dreadful silence. "Where were you yesterday? And Ginny, too," he asked her casually. "Mostly you though. Ginny came back yesterday, but you didn't. I was worried something had happened."

Hermione stood up and grabbed her bag and books. This is exactly what she had wanted to avoid in the first place. In her mind, she came up with a cheap excuse, knowing that Harry would accept it. "Just out. Girl time, I guess you could call it, not that I need to check with you," she said snappishly. Rolling her shoulders, she adjusted her bag strap and looked down at her scarred friend. "We should probably get down to the Great Hall if we want to get breakfast, Ron or no Ron," she said, her voice as tame as she could make it.

Harry looked unconvinced by her story, but did not press the matter further, knowing when a conversation was dead. Instead he nodded and rose with her.

The walk to the Great Hall was made in silence, but not the usual, comfortable silence that the two best friends normally held. No, this silence was heavy with suspicion and skepticism. Hermione was feeling the pressure and heat rolling off the boy, and she imagined herself drenched in sweat as she exploded to him, telling the boy everything that had transpire. She was just about to shatter when they rounded the corner to the Great Hall. Her one savior.

Hermione was able to find herself and control her straining emotions. Swallowing her tongue, she shook her head and strode quicker towards the dining hall. Once they reached the two large oak doors, the pair pushed into the hall and made their way to the Gryffindor table where they met Neville and Dean, both of whom looked as though they rose from death itself.

"Morning, boys," Hermione said, sweeping a tendril of untamed hair out of her tired face as she took her seat next to Harry.

"G'morning," muttered both boys, their elbows on the table and their eyes dropping tiredly. Great, Hermione thought, the one morning that she wished for distraction and everyone around her might as well be dead. What a wonderful way to start off the day.

As the Great Hall slowly began to fill, the morning air around them buzzed with conversation at the other house tables and soon the food appeared on the table. Rather unsurprisingly, Hermione found herself unable eat. With a lost look etched upon her face, she sat with a half full plate, picking at her food with her gold fork. A few minutes into breakfast, Ron joined Harry on the other side, looking twice as tired as Neville and Dean.

"Late morning?" piqued Ginny, who seemed all but flippant with her eyes wide and a small smile dawned on her pale lips.

Ron simply waved a hand at her and pulled food from every dish near him onto his plate. "Mondays… You just never get used to them," he muttered, taking a bite out of a crisp piece of bacon as a shudder visibly ran through his body.

Reluctantly, Hermione kept sneaking glances up at the Head Table, feeling a pair of eyes burning into her back. When she looked up, she coldly caught Snape's eyes and for a short instant, they held the contact, before he rolled his eyes and moved his gaze down to his plate. Hermione sighed. Just when she thought perhaps he'd been warming up to her.

Well, not quite warming up. She had not expected him to be perky and friendly all of the sudden, but after walking her out of the dungeons last night she thought he might be civil, at the very least. Hell, especially after the night he'd given her. With a vile grimace she stabbed her fork into the yolk of her fried egg and twisted it violently. As she looked up, she noticed all eyes in her vicinity focused on her person. She gulped and stood up from her seat.

"I'm going to walk around for a bit," she told the boys. "I just… I really need some air, and then I'll just go straight to the dungeons from… wherever I find myself, I suppose." When Ron and Harry looked at her skeptically, she scoffed. "I'm fine! I'm just stressed and tired and I need a little alone time, is that such a crime?"

"Are you sure you don't want one of us to come?" offered Harry, looking eager to join her, but also wanting to finish his morning meal.

"Or both of us," Ron joined as he choked down a sausage and wiped his mouth with his robe sleeve. Hermione grimaced lightly in disgust. She turned her attention to Harry.

Hermione smiled at the green eyed boy, but shook her head at his offer."Thanks, Harry, but perhaps it's best for you to stay and keep an eye on Ron," she said, jerking her head to the red haired boy. She and Harry shared a short laugh before she turned on her heel and strode out of the Great Hall; two pairs of eyes were glued unknowingly to her retreating form.

* * *

Instead of going outside, as she had told Harry and Ron, she made her way down to the cool dungeons, allowing the moist air to attack her hair and frizz it up something awful. She needed to be alone for a few minutes and she knew that nobody in their right mind would spend any extra time down in the bowels of the school.

The soreness in her abdomen made walking a bit of a nightmare, but she tried to ignore the slight pain as much as she could. It wasn't so much the pain as it was the reminder. She exhaled in hateful self-disgust as she walked through the darkened halls of the dungeons. As she finally made it to her destination, she pressed her back to the stone wall and dropped her bag to the floor next to her.

In her head, Hermione thought over her Ancient Runes essay, went through Potions ingredients, and even thought up a timeline for History of Magic. Anything to forget last night's events. Soon enough, she heard footsteps approaching, multiple footsteps. Round the corner, she saw Neville, along with most of the NEWTS Potion class. She cocked her eyebrow as he approached and rose to her feet.

Neville, seeming much more awake than he had earlier, offered her a smile and stood next to her by the door. "So, did you and Ginny have a nice day?"

She frowned confusedly, "Not to be rude, Neville, but… what are you doing here?"

The boy smiled and shrugged. "Honestly," he exhaled with a light chuckle, "I don't know meself. Professor McGonagall told me just yesterday that I've been transferred to this class." He shook his head. "A bit of a nightmare, really. I was actually enjoyin' meself this year. Don' know how I got in; I got a P on my OWLS in potions. I guess it's good for me, though. Now I have a chance to be an Auror after all. Granny will be so proud."

Hermione twitched out a smile and placed a hand on Neville's shoulder and squeezed it. "Well, I'm happy for you," she said, though she hardly meant it. Neville was atrocious at Potions. She knew over a handful of people far more qualified to be brought up. In fact, she'd place Neville on her 'Never Allow Near a Cauldron, Full or Not, Ever Again,' list. This led her to wonder what motives Professor McGonagall could have for placing him in such a high level course.

Suddenly, A flash of black robes billowed passed the pair of Gryffindors. "Let's not dally," said the deep, abysmal voice that caused Hermione to tense up. Once inside the Potions room, she went to her work station with Neville tailing her and busied herself getting her book out of her bag.

"Today we shall be brewing Veritaserum, instructions," he slapped the board with a meter stick, "are on the board. Begin," and with that, class begun in a frenzy of flipping pages and clicking jars.

Hermione quirked a brow and looked to Harry, Ron and Neville as they began, but did not begin to brew her potion, or even open her book for that matter. Snape, in response to this, looked to Hermione with a cocked brow. "Do you have a problem, Miss Granger? Are we hard of hearing?" Upon hearing this, the class suddenly slowed around her.

She gulped and averted her gaze from his eyes. She had planned to keep quiet in his class today, but she simply could not stand to be silent in these circumstances. Suddenly she became very aware of the cause of her pains. Pulling together all her Gryffindor pluck and tenacity, Hermione raised her eyes to Snapes and straightened her back. "Sir, one cannot simply _brew_ Veritaserum in one class period. It's just absurd," she said with an arrogant scoff as she brazenly crossed her arms.

Next to her, Harry and Ron were holding back cackles and tears. She felt their pride and enjoyment rolling of them in waves and she smiled quirkily.

Snape looked at her harshly for a moment before raking his eyes across the now frozen class; everyone seemed to stop mid action. "Pray tell why not, Miss Granger," he challenged her as he stepped closer to her work station. Her smile dropped along with her resolve as he approached her with an ominous look twisted onto his face.

Hermione shifted her eyes to the left before springing them back to him, looking alert. She took in a deep breath before rambling her response, full speed. "Veritaserum, a powerful truth serum used commonly for interrogation, takes about a full moon cycle to brew, approximately 28 days. Attempting to brew it in one class and use it would be hazardous, if not utterly stupid," she said in her knowledgeable rush.

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched upward, but as soon as the mirth was there , it was gone. "An answer straight from Advanced Potion-Making, _Grade 7, _but no less correct," he said, his eyes narrowed at her. "I was expecting more of you to come to this realization. Perhaps I am not being harsh enough with the lot of you," he said as he turned his attention now to the entire class. "Three feet on reasons as to why Veritaserum cannot be brewed in such short time constrictions. You may proceed with that now," he said as he offered her a smirk and turned his back to her as he strode away to his desk.

Everyone in the room shot daggers at Hermione, though she did not know why. _She_ had not been the one to think it was sensible to brew such a potion right now. If anything, she should be mad with them. Pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill, Hermione began to scratch away.

"Thanks a lot, Mudblood," Draco Malfoy slurred coolly as he passed her on his way to place his ingredients back in the storage room. As she looked up to him, she shrank as she saw the pure hate in his eyes, only the hate didn't seem solely directed at her. She shook her head and looked away.

"Oh, stuff it Malfoy. Perhaps if you'd done your reading we wouldn't be in this situation," she sniffed as she lowered her eyes to her paper and scratched away. Harry and Ron followed in suit, but Neville sat there unsure of what exactly he was to do.

Suddenly Hermione was struck with the amazed thought of why Snape had not said anything about Neville's sudden arrival. With narrowed eyebrows, Hermione knew then and there that something was going on. And she was going to find out, that was for sure.

* * *

By the end of the class, Hermione had completed her essay, as expected. Despite her completion, she decided not to hand it in just yet. Not wanting to be in contact with Snape for longer than needed, she rolled it up and placed it in her bag. "I expect those essays on my desk by Thursday. There will be no exceptions. Leave," he said, dismissing the class hastily and taking his seat back at his desk.

Hermione quickly swept her belongings in her bag and made a jet for the door, but just as she got there, Snape's voice rang through the room, "Not you, Miss Granger," and with that, she stopped and stood by the door, the room now empty. "Over here," he pointed to the place in front of his desk. She really should have figured that this was coming, but she just assumed he'd want as much space away from her as she wanted from him. Perhaps she was wrong in her assumptions.

Hermione walked over to his desk, holding her bag in front of her body protectively. Not even looking up from the parchment he had been grading, he said, "I'm sure your eager little mind is wondering why Neville Longbottom of all people has been chosen for this class."

Her eyes widened at first, but then her brows pulled together, "Sir?"

"Miss Granger, I am telling you right now that you are not, and I repeat _not_, to stick your pert little nose into this situation. Are we clear?" he asked as he glared up at her from beneath his short lashes. His glare froze her in a way she had not been frozen before.

Hermione faltered, but recoiled. "I-we… alright…," she said.

They stood there in silence, only the sound of the scratching quill filled the air, "And if we want to keep this a secret, _which we do_," he added warningly, shooting a narrowed gaze up at her from beneath his curtain of hair, "we need to be far more careful with how we leave from our… meetings," he said as Hermione shuddered. "It would look quite suspicious were coming up with the Slytherins from the dungeons. We've already been spotted once. Worry not, I've circumvented that situation," he assured her as he averted his eyes.

She nodded, but did not know what to say at this moment so she simply stood there and looked around the room. "Well? That's all. Out of my sight, Granger. I don't want to see more of you than I absolutely have to." And with that, she hurried out of the room and met up with Neville who had been waiting outside, listening .

"Neville?" She asked, her eyes wide and her hand over her mouth, "What did you hear?"

He looked at her with a flushed face and his arms held behind his back. "Enough, Hermione. I heard enough."

* * *

**Once again, I am sorry for the wait! Don't hate me, don't hate me! Hope you liked this chapter, though it is something of a filler for the story. Anyways, please keep reading and PLEASE REVIEW!**


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